King Arthur: A Knight's Tale
by kdross42
Summary: Meet Quinn, a female Sarmatian knight serving with Arthur, Lancelot and the gang. This is her story. Can she really stay 'just friends' with her fellow knights? And more importantly, can she escape the ghosts of her past...
1. Prologue

They came for me on my eleventh birthday, as was customary. I was to join the Roman army stationed in Britania, along Hadrian's wall. Such tradition had been started before anyone now alive could remember, when the Romans had tried to conquer the Sarmatian people; my people, one hundred and fifty two years ago, in the year 300 A.D.. They had suceeded, leaving none of the once great army alive, save a handful of members of the legendary calvary. Impressed by their horsemanship and fighting skills, the Romans had them pledge an oath of service to the army. This oath, however, not only bound them, but theur sons, and their sons, and so on and so forth. How I wish they had chosen death on that day. for now I was off to spend the next fifteen years living the hard, dirty, and bloody life of a soldier. Not a great way for a young lady to be raised, now is it?p

I still remember that day. My mother begging the soldiers not to take me because of my sex. My father trying to comfort the both of us, knowing that nothing would come of her wishes. Since there was no male to take my place the soldiers were forced to accept me as their newest charge. i had been dreading this day since I knew it was coming; always praying that I would not be forced into servitude, but rather remain free to live my life with the joys of being a lady. I was not naive in beliving that the chances of that happening were very large, and neither was my family. So, I was brought up with the village boys; learning to fight alongside them. And I had always succeeded. The young boys quickly learned not to pick on 'the girl' because of her sharp blade and sharper tongue. I was fast to fury and slow to forgive, but still a loyal companion and friend. And even though I stood courageous and strong in the face of danger, that day i was terrified. Terrified of what was to come in the next fifteen years. My father had gone through it, and I had demanded stories of his trials, milking out every possible detail, trying to better prepare myself. And, yet, somehow, I found myself becoming more and more scared. This was not a game, as i had played with the boys. This was real danger, and I knew there was a fair possibility that I would not make it through this alive. I had lived most of my life in fear of this day. And now it was here. I had said goodbye to my parents earlier, so when the soldier came to get me all i needed was a squeeze from both my parents before I was whisked away from my former life. p

The rest of my companions were at the top of a nearby hill. At first glance I counted about twenty. Another soldier was staring at me, mouth wide as i led my horse up the slope.br  
"What's this?" He asked incredulously. His companion that had taken me from my family shrugged.br

"She's the only one. We can either bring her or explain why we're one short." His partner seemed to accept this, since he fell quiet. One of them gave me a boost onto my horse, and then we began our slow journey.p

We travelled across the land for weeks, picking up nine more children along the way. The last stop we made was at the smallest village yet, making mine look like a palace. It seemed as if the whole population had come out to bid farewell to this child. The group that was clearly his family huddled around him, hugging each other for moral support, not wanting to believe what was happening. A small girl handed hm an item as he sat atop his horse and then backed up into the waiting arms of her mother. He looked at the gift and then put it around his neck before saying his last words to his family.br

"Don't worry. I will return," he promised, and then rode towards us. He paused next to the soldiers. "How long shall we be gone?" He inquired.br

"Fifteen years," the man replied coldly. "Not counting the months it will take to get to your post." The boy just nodded solemnly and continued to ride towarrds the group of us children. br

"Lancelot!" his father called after him. He turned around in his saddle to look back at his life slowly. br

"RUUSS!!" His father cried out, sounding the traditional Sarmatian battle cry across the land. The rest of his family and village joined in, pumping their fists into the air and bellowing their goodbyes. One by one, the boys I was to spend the next decade and a half with joined in, until I too could not help but cry out myself. During that moment, everything was as it should be, and there were no thoughts of war and fighting plaguing our mind. But it lasted only a moment, and then the moment was over, leaving me feeling as hollow as before. the soldiers kicked their mounts into action, and we were leaving again, moving onwards towards our post.p

The next few weeks progessed in a hard routine. We rode until well after the sunset, made a rough camp, and were up before dawn to ride again. Each day took us further from what we knew and closer to our new futures. Mine looked to be a rather lonely one. None of the boys wanted anything to do with me. They didn't understand why a girl was with them, so they ignored me as if I weren't there, avoiding me like a leper. It hurt in the beginning, but I quickly blocked it all out of my mind, forcing myself not to care. Once training starts, I thought to myself. Then they'll see what I can do and accept me. It had been the same way with the boys.p

One day we were travelling along a ridge that encompassed a lake, where a few women were washing their laundry. Sudden;y all of the boys, who still refused to talk to me, started whispering and pointing to a young boy crouched beside one of the women.br

"What are they talking about?" I whispered to my horse.br

"That is Arthur Castus. He is to be our commander from Rome," a voice replied from beside me. I turned quickly to find one of the boys riding next to me. I hadn't even heard him approaching.br

"But he is only a child!" I exclaimed. I had to admit, I had been expecting a seasoned war veteran.br

"As are we all," the boy pointed out. "I'm Dagonet." that was when I realized that this was the first time I had been spoken to the entire journey, other than the commands given by the soldiers. I wasn't about to pass up the opportunity for a friend. br

"Quinn," I replied, and reached across my horse to shake his hand. "You know, you're the first person to talk to me," I stated.br

"I know," he replied, meeting my eyes. "But they'll come around," he assured me.p

"That night when we made camp, dagonet moved things over so that he was positioned next to me. He stayed there the whole night, like my own guardian. I smiled to myself as I drifted off to sleep. Yeah, having a friend might not be too bad.p  
Sure enough, the next day a few more boys started coming up to me to introduce themselves. But now i didn't have to worry about lonliness, since Dagonet hardly ever left my side, whether it was during our daily travels, or at night when we stopped for our few blessed hours of sleep. Surprisingly, I found his company more comforting than I could have ever imagined. It also became apparent that Dagonet's respect and loyalty was hard to gain and very important, because by the end of the week every boy there had introduced himself to me, and i was now always included in conversations and activities. I had especially bonded with a small group of boys that had become my good friends: Dagonet, of course, and Tristan, who already had his own set of 

weapons that he apparently knew how to use. He also talked to his horse a lot. There was also Bors, who I wasn't really fond of, but he followed Dagonet like he was some sort of god, so there was really no avoiding him. Then there was Merrick, a fiery redhead boy who never stopped smiling, and was actually excitied about going off to fight. I also knew Galahad, Gawain, and lastly Lancelot. Now, he was an odd one. I remembered him from the day that he joined our ranks, but also from when we had first been formally introduced.br  
"I'm Lancelot," he had stated lazily, as if he was obligated to do so.br

"Quinn," I had responded friendlily, not wanting to be judgemental.br  
"Isn't that a boys name?" He demanded, raising his eyebrows. That did it. I stood up abruptly.br

"Well, that's what I was supposed to be, isn't it? A boy? If I'm here with the likes of you why shouldn't I have a name like all of yours?" I had practically shouted.All he did was shrug and walk away, but a couple of hours later, at dinner, he sat down next to me and started talking as if nothing had ever happened and we had known each other for years.p

We met Artorius for the first time on our boat on the way to Britain. None of us picked him out for what he was at first since he was dressed in a garg that matched our own and not like a royal. He did everything that we did; took the same lessons, ate the same food and slept in the same place. It wasn't at all what I had expected from the young noble, to say the least. But the most intriguing part, however, was how much he seemed to care about us as individuals. I remember when he came up to me and just started asking questions about my past, as he had been doing to everyone. In return he told us about his life, and waht his home had been like. By the time we got to Britania and made our way to our post at Hadrian's Wall it felt as if all thirty of us had known each other all our lives.


	2. Ambush

Fifteen Years Laterp

At last, after what had seemed like a lifetime, my service was coming to a close. All we had to do was escort the Bishop back to Hadrian's Wall and then we would be free. I could remember it all in detail. the years of training, our first real battle, the first time I'd lost a friend. And we had lost many. All that remained of our thirty person company was myself, Dagonet, Bors, Tristan, Gawain, Galahad, Lancelot and our commander, Arthur. eight out of thirty. So many had died, and for what? We weren't fighting for ourselves. We were fighting for a country not our own, who thought our traditions and beliefs were barbaric and wrong. Everyone had died for nothing. And that was why I wanted out. I didn't mind the fighting. I actually enjoyed the thrill of a good battle now and then, as weird as that may be. But I didn't want to die for something that meant nothing to me. And I knew that I wasn't the only one thinking that. So when we paused on a hill that overlooked a plain where we could see the bishop's carriage, all of us were excited, and spirits were high. br

"the Bishop's carriage, as promised," Gawain stated excitedly. br

"Our freedom, Bors," Galahad said.br

"Mmm, I can almost taste it," he joked, and everyone laughed.br

"and your passage to Rome, Arthur," Gawain put in. The laughter died out quickly. because even though we all wanted to go home, we could not forget that once we left we might never see each other again, which was hard to imagine after living with each other half our lives. Truthfully, I didn't know if I was ready to leave anyone just yet. Except Bors, maybe. I didn't have to dwell on that thought long, however, because at that moment on of the guards of the carriage fell of his horse, dead, an arrow protruding from his chest. br

"Woads!" Tristan cried in alarm, seeing the blue skinned people start to emerge from the trees. the one word of alarm was all we needed. Eight horses were simultaneously spurred into a gallop as we plunged down the hill to aid the bishop. Within moments there were dozens of Woads surrounding the carriage and guards, and it was easy to see that they were successfully overpowering the few Roman officers with their superior numbers. One roman was dragged off his horse and then hit in the chest with an axe. Another was lost under a pile of feral blue bodies. More fell from arrow wounds, only to meet their end by a vicious woad hand. p

As we neared, Arthur unsheathed his mighty sword Excalibur and let out a piercing battle cry. My fellow knights and I joined in, grabbing our weapons of choice. My hands fastened around the handle of my bow and I immediately pulled it free, nocked an arrow, and let it loose. It hit a Woad in the through and he fell. By now our small company had reached the fighting. Arthur struck a running woad in the back and then proceeded to cleanly decapitate another who had been holding up a severed Roman head. Oh, the irony. Tristan, Galahad and I were firing arrows constantly; Galahad and myself to aid soldiers in need and Tristan taking out their archers, who were hidden high in the trees. I swept the field, looking for another target, and saw Lancelot leap from his horse, drawing his twin swords and throwing himself into the worst of the fray. I took that as my cue and stashed my bow in my horses' saddlebags, instead drawing the two long, curved knives that I preferred. I dove off my horse and into a pack of Woads, immediately slicing one's throat and stabbing another in the chest with one fluid movement. One rushed me from the back, and I turned, blocking his strike with my left hand while driving the blade I held in my right hand into his gut. p

I heard a cry to my left and spun just in time to see Dagonet leap off his horse onto a Woad's back and tumble down a small bank into a stream. He resurfaced immediately, striking blows with his huge axe. I moved to go help him, but was blocked by more Woads. I struck them 

away one by one, keeping half my attention on Dagonet, who couldn't move as quickly as usual with the water dragging at his weapons and clothing. Suddenly, a sharp pain seared through my right arm. I yelled in shock and threw myself to the ground in a somersault, rolling away from my attacker. Unfortunately, that roll brought me right to another Woad's feet. he raised his sword high over his head and prepared to strike, when Galahad rode by, and conveniently placed an arrow in his back. I turned to deal with the one who had cut me, disposing of him quickly. When I looked to check on Dagonet, I found Bors already there, clearing the way for him to get back onto high ground. Another closer look told me that the battle was winding down. Tristan was effortlessly finishing off the last few Woads by the carriage in his own beautifully graceful fighting style, not even breaking a sweat. Lancelot had his last foe on his knees and had both swords crossed around his neck. The man closed his eyes, accepting his fate, and Lancelot pulled the swords like scissors. A head rolled to the ground. the others were now noticing a lack of people to kill as well.p

"RUUUS!!" Bors bellowed, screaming our battle cry into the air. I joined him and the rest of my comrades around the bishop's carriage. As Bors pulled back the curtain, my stomach fell. The shaft of an arrow protruded from the bishop's head, and his eyes were blank. Bors snarled angrily and Gawain dropped to one knee, plunging a knife into the soft ground in frustration. Hearing an incoherent muttering, we all looked under the carriage to find a man who could only be the Bishop's assistant cowering and shaking. br

"Save your prayer, boy. Your god doesn't live here," Gawain told him softly.p

suddenly, a woad rushed at Arthur from behind. I cried out in warning, but he needed none. He had already turned and brought Excalibur up to the man's neck, making him stop dead in his tracks and fall to his knees. Then something no one expected happened: he dropped his weapon.br

"Why did Merlin send you south of the wall?" Arthur demanded. the man answered in the native woad language, which I could understand just enough to get the gist out of what he was saying.br

"Kill me now and make me a martyr," he taunted. Arthur pressed the tip of his blade deeper into the man's throat, drawing a thin trickle of blood.br

"Pick it up," he hissed. When the woad made no move to do so he repeated himself, his voice firmer and laced with an iciness we rarely heard him use. "Pick. It. Up." after a tense moment he did as commanded. Arthur hesitated, looking into the forest, where we all knew Merlin, the mysterious woad leader would be watching us from. The, to everyone's surprise, he lowered his blade and walked away. the woad was shocked to the point where he couldn't move for a moment, and then he darted for the trees before Arthur could change his mind.p

As I was trying to make sense of what had just happened, Arthur was pushing his way towards us.br

"He's a bloody mess!" Bors raged when Arthur pulled back the curtain to look into the carriage. He studied the corpse somberly for a minute before turning back to face us.br

"That's not the bishop," he said slowly before starting to scan the scene around us.br

"God help us," the assistant said shakily as he climbed out from his hiding spot, surveying what remained of the battle ground. "What are they?"br

"Blue demons who eat Christians alive. You're not a Christian are you?" Bors asked menacingly, causing the poor man to back up straight into the carriage. He put his hands together and began to mumble incohesive prayers.br

"Does that actually work?" Bors clasped his hands together and mumbled nonsensical syllables mockingly. He looked up after a second. "Nothing. Maybe I'm not doing it right." I dug my elbow into his side and pushed him away from the terrified man.br

"They're Woads," I explained. br

"Woads?" He questioned, but I never had time to explain, for at that moment we noticed the remaining Roman guards forming a circle around us. One of them rod out of ranks and came to a stop in front of Arthur, who had taken a protective stance in front of us.br

"Arthur! Arthur Castus! I haven't seen you since childbirth!" The man exclaimed in a heavy accent. br

"Bishop Germanius. Welcome to Britain. I see your military skills still serve you well. Your device worked," Arthur complimented, clearly not surprised that the Bishop had been fighting in the battle. br

"Ancient tricks," he commented, laughing, "For and ancient dog." The way he said this ran chills up and down my spine. This man had power and was good at getting what he wanted. It was somewhat of a scary combination. br

"So these are the great sarmatian knights Rome has heard so much about!" He went on, and I rolled my eyes.br

"Heard so much about but never done anything for," I whispered so only Tristan standing next to me could hear. the corners of his mouth twitched and I knew that would be as close as I got to a smile. The Bishop didn't notice and pressed on. br

"I thought the Woads controlled the North of Hadrian's Wall?" he asked suspiciously. Arthur grimaced. br

"Yes, but they occasionally venture South. Rome's anticipated withdrawal from Britain has only increased their daring.

"br  
"Woads?" The assistant asked again.br

"British rebels who hate Rome," Gawain clarified.br

"Men who want their country back," Galahad added obnoxiously.br

"Who leads them?" the Bishop inquired.br

"He's called Merlin. A dark magician, some say," Lancelot told him.br

"Please do not worry Bishop, we will protect you," Arthur vowed as the Bishop started to climb into the carriage.br

"Oh, I have no doubt, commander," he replied. "No doubt." br

"Dozens don't worry me nearly so much as thousands," the assistant muttered as he climbed to the front of the carriage. Lancelot raised his eyebrows and I looked at him. br

"Thousands?" I asked, but we had no time to pursue that matter now.p

"Tristan, Quinn, ride ahead," Arthur commanded. Tristan did so immediately, but Dagonet grabbed my arm, making me remember my small injury. I nodded pointedly, silently promising that I would take care of it once everyone was out of danger. then I quickly mounted Arion, my horse, and took off at a gallop after Tristan.


	3. Dinner Meeting

Tristan slowed down slightly to wait for me and then we proceeded together silently, keeping a watchful eye and ear out for any out of place movements or noises. As we entered the forest I saw a dark shape loping along side of us, easily keeping our fast pace, and smiled to myself. It was my wolf, Blaez. If something had been wrong he would have alerted us.br

I had found him when he was just a pup. He had been small, apparently the runt of the litter. I had stumbled upon him by accident while searching for firewood. He had been abandoned and was starving to death in the wilderness. Having not known better, I had given him a strip of dried meat to chew on. After that there was no getting rid of him. He followed me around like Bors followed Dagonet. When it became apparent that he was not going anywhere I named him Blaez, which meant wolf in Old Breton, the language of the Woads. Then I had set out to train him, which proved much easier than I had anticipated. He knew not to go after any of the animals or people at Hadrian's wall, but other than that he still retained his wildness. It proved useful in battle and scouting, where he could chase down anyone that tried to get away. He knew myself and the other knights by scent, and acted like a tame pet towards us. Strangers, however, were another story, because he was anything but tame. I had seen him rip people's throats out, and therefore treated him with the upmost respect, normally letting him run loose while we were on missions like these. I knew he would come back. He always did. p

Tristan had seen him as well and slowed down a little, knowing that he would alert us to any upcoming dangers. He brought his horse close to mine and held out a strip of cloth. I took it gratefully and tied it around my upper arm, where the woad had cut me. The one handed knot I tied was clumsy and loose, so Tristan motioned for me to give it to him. His hands worked quickly and deftly to tie a firm bandage, stopping the slow but steady stream of blood I had been losing. Thankfully, he didn't inquire as to how I had come to get it, because I was rather ashamed to say.p

"Thanks," I murmured once he had finished, and he nodded in response. We still had to keep quiet since we were on lookout. Once we made sure the road ahead was clear and held no more surprises we doubled around to go back and find Arthur. They were moving slowly now, since they had to keep pace with the Bishop's carriage. When we found them we slipped quietly into the ranks again. I took up my usual position next to Dagonet. He glared at me, then moved his gaze down to my bandaged arm pointedly before returning his eyes to my face.p

"What?" I snapped.p

"I saw that," he commented, and I immediately knew he was talking about how I had sustained my injury. "It was stupid. You're lucky that's all you got," he reprimanded.p  
"Look, I was trying to help you-"p

"I've told you not to worry about me. I will be fine."p

"You wouldn't have been if Bors hadn't showed up," I challenged. p  
Much as you would not be if not for Galahad," he countered, and I looked down at the ground sheepishly.p

"Dagonet, we're knights, we watch each other's back."p

"Well you should always watch your own first. I made a promise to protect you, and I can't do that if you're dead." He snapped. At the mention of that promise memories flooded my mind. Memories of anger, blood, death... Tears started to well up in my eyes and I swiftly urged Arion on so that Dagonet could not see my tears. There was a long span of silence from then until we reached the Wall an hour later, when we broke our protective formation around the carriage and instead all rose together in two lines, leading the way.p

"I don't like it, Rome," Galahad commented. "He's here to discharge us, why doesn't he just give us our papers and be done with it?"p  
"Is this your happy face?" Gawain joked. Galahad's serious expression faded into a small smile and everyone laughed. "Galahad, do you not yet know the Romans? They can't scratch their own ass without holding a ceremony first," Gawain went on, bringing a chorus of laughter from everyone but Arthur, who was riding a bit ahead of all of us. p  
"Why don't you just kill him and then discharge yourself after?" Bors suggested. I couldn't tell if he was joking or not.p  
"I don't kill for pleasure, unlike some," Galahad replied. Tristan looked up, finally interested in the conversation. p  
"You should try it someday, you might get obsessed with it," he put in.p  
"It's part of you," Bors stated. "It's in your blood."p  
"No- no- no," Galahad half laughed. "As of tomorrow this was all just a bad memory."p  
"Oh," Bors mouthed, not believing him at all. p  
"I've often wondered what going home will mean after all of this," Gawain said thoughtfully. "What will I do? It's different for Galahad. I've been in this life longer than the other. So much for home, it's not so clear in my mind." I knew exactly what he meant, for lately I had been thinking the same thing. After all I was the youngest, checking in at just over twenty-five. Gawain was next at twenty-seven, Lancelot at twenty-eight, Galahad at twenty-nine, Tristan and Arthur at thirty-one and Bors being the oldest at thirty-four.p

"Speak for yourself," Bors scoffed. "It's cold back there. And everyone I know is dead and buried. Besides, I have, I think, a dozen children."p

"Eleven," I corrected him automatically. I only knew because I was friends with Vanora, his long time lover.p  
"You listen. When the Romans leave, we'll have the run of all of this place. I'll be... governor of my own village, and Dagonet will be my personal guard, and royal arse killer, won't you Dag?" I caught my laughter just in time as Dagonet raised his eyebrows, indicating that he was thinking of no such thing.p

"First thing I will do when I get home is find myself a beautiful Sarmatian woman to wed," Gawain said dreamily.p  
"A beautiful Sarmatian woman. Why do you think we left in the first place?" Bors asked incredulously, making a loud moo-ing noise.p  
"Are you forgetting that Sarmatia has hailed such extravagant beauties, such as our Quinn?" Lancelot reminded them. I blushed at the compliment. p

"Quinn doesn't count. She could kill any of us. That's not the top trait I look for in my women. No offense, Quinn," Gawain said hurriedly. I grinned.p  
"None taken. I'll look at that as a compliment," I replied.p  
"What about you, Lancelot. What are your plans for home?" Dagonet asked him.p  
"Well, if this woman of Gawain's is as beautiful as he claims, I expect to be spending a lot of time at Gawain's house. His wife will welcome the company," Lancelot replied, smirking arrogantly. Everyone except Gawain found this extremely funny. p

"I see. Then what will I be doing?" He wondered.p  
"Wondering at your good fortune that all of your children look like me," Lancelot stated confidently. This time, no one could contain the hearty laughter. Bors laughed so hard he almost fell off his horse.p  
"Is that before or after I hit you with my axe?" Gawain muttered, causing myself and Bors to 

laugh even harder as Lancelot rode ahead to speak with Arthur. p  
"And you, Quinn?" Gawain asked. "What will you do? You're not too old to find a man and raise a family. Many a man would be more than willing to take you," he pointed out. As if I didn't know that already, living with this lot and a bunch of Roman soldiers. p  
"I don't know." I replied honestly. "I'm the youngest of all of us. I barely remember home at all. I don't know if it would be worth it, going back and having to start all over again."p  
"Well, you'd best decide soon," Galahad commented.p  
"Why?" I asked.p  
"Because, unless you're forgetting, we're getting discharged tonight," he reminded me. p  
"So!" I exclaimed. "Don't you see! That's the beauty of it. I don't have to know what I'm going to do. No one can tell us what we have to do anymore. I can sit here and decide what I'm going to do as long as I like," I finished. The others fell silent. None of them had thought of our freedom that way; they all saw it as their ticket home. But for now, all thoughts of freedom were pushed from our minds as the gate to Hadrian's Wall came in sight. Tristan whistled a small line, and Nike, his hawk, came swopping down to land on his arm. Taking that as my cue, I pulled out a small tin whistle I carried and sent a stream of air through it, emitting a high pitched noise that resounded across the countryside. Within moments I could see Blaez's form loping across the plain, closing the gap between the woods and our caravan quickly and then slowing down to a walk next to Arion. I heard a shout from the wall to open the small gate into the fortress that had become our home. Arthur pushed his stallion, Hengroen, into a canter and then a gallop as he heard the alert, and we all did the same, eager to make our grand entrance as returning heroes, but also to make room between us and the Bishop, so he could make an entrance all of his own. As we pounded through the archway I suddenly felt a strong sense of security and assuredness that only a home can bring. A few shouts arose from men and women alike as they congratulated us. We all stopped the horses shortly once we entered the small courtyard that separated us, our quarters and our training yards from the rest of the village. The Bishop's carriage arrived a few minutes later. The Bishop got out and looked around, wrinkling his nose. Arion fidgeted underneath me, feeling my frustration. It may not have looked like much, but this place held a special place in my heart. There were so many memories here, and I didn't like the Bishop showing such obvious signs of disgust at the mere sight of our home.p

"Bishop Germanius, my quarters have been made available to you," Arthur offered politely.p

"Yes, yes, I must rest," the Bishop agreed and I rolled my eyes. Yes, his butt must have been very sore form sitting in his carriage. Once Jols, a squire, led him I finally jumped off Arion.p  
"I don't like him either, Galahad," I informed him. He grinned.p  
"Took you long enough," he sniffed.p  
"Sorry, I'll try to be more judgmental next time," I replied sarcastically. "I'm going to bathe before dinner, and I suggest you all do the same." Even though I would have loved seeing the Bishop's face if we had all attended the event in our current state, I also didn't want to have to put up with the stench myself. Arthur nodded his approval and we all dispersed, each of us going to our own quarters to get ready. A large metal basin of water was already waiting for me, and I silently thanked the squires who took time out of their training to help us do things such as this. Some of them would go on to become the next generation of Sarmatian knights. Others, such as Jols, who didn't reach the high standards of becoming a knight remained squires for the rest of their service to Rome. I quickly stripped off my armor and gear, tossing them into a pile near my bed, wanting to make the most of the warmth of the water. I slipped my body down gratefully into the water fresh from the hot springs. I used the rough soap that had been provided to scrub 

every particle of blood and dirt off of my body. By the time the water had gone cold my skin was red and raw, but I knew that the cleanliness would turn into a warm shine by the time that I was expected at the round table. I got out of the basin and toweled my body dry, wringing the excess water out of my hair as well. I wrapped the towel around my body in case I had any unsuspecting visitors and then walked over to the small closet where the rest of my clothes were located. I chose a pair of navy blue breeches and hose that not only accented my red hair, but brought out my sea foam green eyes. As I was inspecting myself in the mirror I heard a knock at the door and Jols stuck his head in. p  
"They're ready, Quinn," he informed me.p  
"Thanks, Jols," I said, following him out of the room and down the hallway to the round table. I was the last of us to arrive, so I sat down quickly in my seat to Dagonet's immediate left, directly across the table from Lancelot. We'd been in a small spat the day we'd first picked seats, and had wanted to be as far away from each other as possible. No one sat to my left anymore.p

Even though silence reined the hall I could feel the air buzz with anticipation and excitement. When Jols led the Bishop's assistant in I nearly toppled my chair in my haste to get up. After we were all standing the Bishop strode confidently into the room, but faltered when he saw that the table we sat at was round, and there was no head for him to plop his holy arse in. I hid a smirk; most nobles reacted like this.p  
"A round table?" His assistant asked, astounded. "What sort of madness is this?"p  
"Arthur says that for men to be men, they must first all be equal," Jols explained. The Bishop had an odd look on his face that was a mix of fury and disgust, but, being the politician that he was he hid it quickly.p  
"I was given to understand that there would be more of you," he said, feigning concern for our well-being.p  
"There were. We've been fighting here for fifteen years," I retorted harshly, and the Bishop looked at me for the first time, his eyes widening in shock.p  
"A woman!" He exclaimed.p  
"A knight!" Lancelot interjected on my behalf.p  
"Arthur, what is this?" The Bishop asked, at a loss for words.p  
"Your men are the ones who brought her, ask them," Dagonet muttered darkly. p

"Her mother bore no sons, so they took her instead," Arthur explained.p  
"Surely she is not fit to fight!" The bishop continued.p

"Quinn went through the same training as everyone else here. As you can see, if she was not fit for battle then she certainly would not be here today. She's more than proved her worth," Arthur argued, and I felt a surge of compassion towards our commander. He was always on our side, no matter how bad things got. The Bishop looked around, saw the seven angry men glaring at him and decided that it would be wise to let the matter drop immediately, and then continued on as if the fight had never taken place.p  
"Of course you have suffered losses. Arthur and his knights have serves with courage to maintain the honor of Rome's empire on the last outpost of our glory. To you, noble knights," he said, lifting his glass, "and your final days of service to the empire."p

"Day, not days," Lancelot corrected him. Germanius just smiled and waved his hand, dismissing Lancelot's remark.p  
"The Pope has taken a personal interest in you. He inquires after each of you, and is curious to know if your knights have converted to the word of our savior or..." he trailed off.p  
"They retain the religions of their forefathers, I've never questioned that," Arthur picked up for 

him firmly.p  
"Oh, of course. They are pagans." He spat out the word as if it were poison, and glared resentfully at us in distaste. "For our part, the church has deemed such beliefs innocence. But you, Arthur? Your path to God is through Pelagius? I saw his image in your room."p

"He took my father's place for me. His teachings on free will and equality have been of great influence. I look forward to our reunion in Rome," he finished, emitting one of his rare smiles at the thought of his mentor. p

"Ah- Rome awaits your arrival with great anticipation. You are a hero. You will live out your days in honor. And wealth." I clenched my teeth to stop myself from scolding the Bishop about rubbing it in that Arthur would have fame and glory upon his return home, and in all likeliness, we would have even less than we had now. p

"Alas," the Bishop sighed. "Alas we are all but players in an ever-changing world. Barbarians from every corner are almost at Rome's door. Because of this, Rome, and the holy father, have decided to remover ourselves from indefensible outposts, such as Britain." This got the desired reaction as we all stood up in protest. Germanius looked pleased.p  
"What will become of Britain is no longer our concern. I suppose the Saxons will claim it soon..." he said, dangling the bait in front of our noses. Arthur bit without hesitation. p  
"Saxons?" He demanded.p  
"Yes. In the North, a massive Saxon incursion has begun."p  
"Saxons only claim what they kill," Lancelot said hotly.p  
"And only kill everything," I finished for him, a chill running down my spine at the thought of them, and the last time that we had met.p  
"So you'll just leave the land to the Woads? I risked my life for nothing," Galahad realized in disbelief. As if to make up for this fact the Bishop opened a large wooden box that contained our discharge papers.p  
"Gentlemen. Your discharge papers with safe conduct throughout the Roman Empire. But first, I must have a word with your commander." No one moved. "In private." We still stayed where we were.p  
"We have no secrets," Arthur told him. The Bishop's response was to slam the heavy wooden lid of his box down loudly. Lancelot rose.p

"Come. Let's leave Roman business to Romans," he stated, taking a sip from his goblet before exiting the chamber. All of us followed, except Bors, who was still standing at the table, staring viciously at the Bishop.p  
"Let it go, Bors," Dagonet said as we walked by, squeezing his shoulder. That seemed to break him out of his trance. The seven of us made our way to the center of the village, where we knew that there would be food and entertainment, but most importantly, drinks.

Arthur's Point of Viewp  
"Rome has issued a final order for you and your men," Germanius told Arthur as soon as the knights were out of the room.p  
"Final order?" Arthur snarled in disbelief.p  
"You are to travel north to rescue the family of Marcus Honorius and return in particular with Marius's son, Alecto. Alecto is the Pope's favorite godchild and pupil. It is his destiny to become a bishop, maybe even Pope one day."p  
"On this day," Arthur replied, still in a slight stupor. "You ask this of my men on this day.: He got up and started pacing around the circumference of the table. "They have risked their lives for 

fifteen years for a cause not their own- and now, on the day that they are to be liberated, you send them on a mission that is far more dangerous than they have undertaken. You tell me, Bishop. How do I go to my knights and tell them that instead of freedom, I offer death?"p  
"If your men are truly the knights of legend, perhaps some of them will survive," Germanius said indifferently. "If it is God's will. Your men want to go home. And to get home, they need to cross the entire breadth of the Roman Empire. Deserters would be hunted down like dogs. Will you defy the Pope, Arthur? Rome? God himself?"p  
"Everything I've done has been for the church and Rome!' Arthur snapped. "Do not mistake a loyal soldier for a fool, Germanius."p  
"Would you leave a defenseless Roman boy, destined to lead our church, at the hands of the Saxons?!" Germanius bellowed, and it was then that Arthur knew he had to accept this mission. "Fulfill this mission, and your men will receive their discharge. Their papers will be waiting here the moment they return. You have my word," he finished, and began to walk towards the door until Arthur's words stopped him in his tracks.p

"You think very hard on that vow, Bishop, for I will hold you to it. Break it, and no Roman legion, Papal army, nor God himself will protect you. That is my word," Arthur vowed before spinning on his heel and storming out the door to go find his knights.ppP


	4. Stable Confrontation

Tonight was the loudest and drunkest the square had ever been. My fellow knights were gulping down beer as if it were water. I myself stuck to a few light sips now and then ; someone had to be sensical about things. I watched in amusement as Gawain flipped a knife up with his foot and threw it at a target pinned on a nearby chair. He was about two feet high. Galahad laughed as Gawain went to retrieve it, holding the woman on his lap tightly before getting up to try his luck. He somehow managed to hit it close to the center. Gawain blew a raspberry, knowing that he had lost. That is, until Tristan tossed his knife so the blade buried into the hilt of Galahad's. Just for fun I picked a knife op off the table and sent it whizzing through the air to land on top of Tristan's. p

"Tristan, Quinn, how do you do that?" Gawain marveled. p

"I aim for the middle," Tristan replied, pointing at the target with a hand that only shook slightly as it held an apple. p  
"I do it sober," I added, and laughed at the surprised look at Gawain's face as I walked away. I stopped next to Dagonet and watched in amusement as Lancelot tries his luck at the dice. When he inevitably lost he slammed his knife into the table. p  
"Best of three," he challenged, and none of his competitors were stupid enough to say otherwise. I saw Vanora making her rounds with a pitcher of beer and waved, catching her eye. She smiled at me warmly.p  
"Who wants another drink?" She offered, but was cut short when Lancelot pulled her down into his lap.p  
"When are you going to leave Bors and come home with me?" He said seductively and none too quietly, trying to kiss her neck. She slapped him away, hissing,p  
"My lover is watching you!" And indeed he was. Bors was holding his newest baby boy and I could see him glancing from Lancelot to the baby, as if checking for any signs of resemblance. I chuckled, expecting Dagonet to join me, but he didn't.p  
"Doesn't that bother you?" He asked suddenly.p  
"What?" I asked, not sure what he meant.p  
"Lancelot. The way he treats all of the other women."p  
"Why should that bother me, Dag?"p  
"Come on, Quinn. We all know what goes on with you two. It's not the big secret you seem to think it is."p  
"did Lancelot tell you this?" I asked casually, not committing to anything.p

"No," Dagonet replied evenly, and I knew he was telling the truth. "And if he had, I wouldn't have believed him."p  
"Look, there's nothing going on between Lancelot and I," I stated firmly.p  
"If you could see the way the two of you look at each other you would say otherwise."p

"Yeah, well I spend most of my time with you, does that make us and item now as well?" I snapped.p

"All but for the fact that I'm not the one you spend your time with at night," Dagonet shot back. I glared at him and the hostility only ceased when Bors came over to hand his baby to Vanora, who was nearby gathering more ale for the men.p

"Dagonet, where've you been? We've got plans to make," he called. Dagonet only took a sip out of his cup. After he didn't reply, Bors turned on Vanora.p  
"Come, sing," he demanded.p

"No," she refused promptly, but others had heard Bor's request.p

"It's our last night," he pleaded.p  
"I'm working!" Vanora complained, but everyone was shouting now.p  
"Sing!"p  
"Sing!"p  
"Drop the baby!"p

"Shut up!" Bors thundered. "Vanora will sing!" He declared, and began pulling her towards the center of the courtyard.p  
"Only if Quinn sings with me!" She exclaimed. Before I could react she had grabbed my hand and I was being dragged out with her.p  
"Sing of home," Galahad requested.p

"Fine," Vanora huffed, and began a song.p

ILand of bear and land of eaglebr

Land that gave us birth and blessing,br

Land that calls us ever homeward,br

We will go home across the mountains/Ip

At this point I joined in, singing a warm alto harmony to contrast her soprano.p

IWe will go home,br

We will go home,br

We will go home across the mountains.br

We will go home,br

Singing our song,br

We will go home across the mountains./Ip

As I looked around my eyes involuntarily sought out my comrades. Bors was staring longingly at his lover, enjoying the sound of her voice. Gawain had a woman on his lap and they leaned their head together, snuggling closer to one another. Galahad was standing a few paces away singing along, a serene look on his face. Dagonet was watching passively and gave me a small smile. I grinned inside, knowing our fight was over. Lancelot stared emptily into space, lost in his thoughts. Tristan was the only one who remained unaffected by our words as he sat eating his apple.pI

Hear our singing,br

Hear our longing,br

We will go home across the mountains.br

We will go home,br

We will go home, br

We will go home across the mountains/Ip  
"Arthur!" Jols exclaimed, cutting the song a little short. Everyone's face perked up at the mention of our captain's name.p  
"Arthur!" Galahad greeted him happily, walking over to meet him. Everyone, including myself, did the same. "You're not completely Roman yet, right?" Galahad joked. Arthur didn't seem to find this funny.p  
"RUUUSSS!!" Bors bellowed as he stumbled over. Arthur's grim expression never changed. I frowned. Something was wrong.p  
"Knights. Brothers in arms. Your courage has been tested beyond all limits, but I must ask you now for one further trial," he said emotionally.p  
"Drink?" Bors suggested, pretending to gulp down imaginary ale. Galahad laughed, but I knew that Arthur wasn't joking.p  


"We must leave on a final mission for Rome before our freedom can be granted." I was shocked to find everyone laughing except for Lancelot and I. Lancelot looked at Arthur questioningly, wanting an explanation. he didn't have to wait long.p  
"Above the wall, there lies a Roman family in need of rescue." Galahad's laughter stopped abruptly. "They are trapped by Saxons. Our orders are to secure their safety."p  
"Let the Romans take care of their own," Bors said dismissively.p  
"Above the wall is Woad territory," Gawain pointed out drunkenly, as if we were all unaware of that fact.p  
"Our duty to Rome, if it was ever a duty, is done. Our pact with Rome is done!" Galahad spat.p  
:Every knight here has laid their life on the line for you. For you!" Bors shouted, pointing at Arthur. "And instead of freedom you want more blood? Our blood? You think more of Roman blood than you do ours?!" I could have slapped Bors, but I knew that could only make the situation worse.p  
"Bors, these are our orders. We leave at first light, and when we return, your freedom will be waiting for you. A freedom we can embrace with honor-"p  
"I am a free man!" Bors cut Arthur off, his voice cracking slightly. "I will choose my own fate!"p

"Yeah, yeah, we're all going to die someday," Tristan stated lazily, taking a bite out of his apple. "Is it's death by a Saxon hand that frightens you, stay home."p  
"Well, if you're so eager to die, you can die right here!" Galahad threatened and lunged at Tristan.p  
"Enough. Enough!" Lancelot reprimanded, stepping between the two men to stop Galahad from attempting to hurt Tristan, which was probably a good idea since I was sure that Tristan could take him easily, even if Galahad hadn't been drunk.p  
"I've got something to live for!" Galahad exclaimed, enraged. Things could have gotten much worse, but Dagonet stepped forward and piped up.p  
"The Romans have broken their word. But we have the word of Arthur. That's good enough for me. I'll prepare." He turned to go do so. "Bors, you coming?"p  
"'Course I'm coming! Can't you let you go on your own, you'll all get killed!" He rages. Tristan nodded at Arthur and went to follow Dagonet, unfazed. "I'm just saying what you're all thinking!" Bors continued. "Vanora'll kill me," he muttered as he went to follow Bors. Arthur turned back to the four of us still standing there.p

"And you, Gawain?" He asked, regret in his voice. Gawain sighed and then nodded.p  
"I'm with you," he replied, and glanced at Galahad, who was still glaring at Arthur with murder in his eyes. "Galahad as well," Gawain added, and I almost smiled. Galahad glared at Gawain in astonishment and then let out a huff of breath, laughing quietly. He took the bottle of wine he had been drinking and poured it out at Arthur's feet, letting the clay container fall to the ground and shatter against the cobblestone floor before walking away with Gawain, leaving only Lancelot and I with Arthur. He glanced at us. I nodded once and started towards the stables at a brisk walk, not needing a verbal confirmation. When I was around the corner I turned to see Arthur walk away from Lancelot, leaving him standing there alone. I wanted to go to him, but my feet carried me instead in the opposite direction, towards the stables. Once there I quickly made my way into Arion's stall and buried my head in his mane, exhaling deeply.p  
"I guess we've got a little time to think about what comes next now," I whispered into his ear. He snuffed his nose into my chest affectionately. I took a brush and began combing through his 

mane, letting go of everything that had just happened and concentrated only on removing all of the tangles from his coarse hair. My tactics were working brilliantly until Arthur walked in. He stormed by Arion's stall, not seeing me behind my large black horse, and walked over to where his horse Hengroen's tack was. He picked up a saddle so he could start packing supplies, but stopped as he was halfway turned around, his expression torn. Suddenly, he threw the saddle back down angrily, leaned against the waist high wall it had been sitting on, and began to pray.p  
"Oh, merciful God, I have such need of your mercy now. Not for myself, but for my knights, for this is truly their hour of need." I stopped was doing to listen intently, for I had never heard Arthur pray like this before. "Deliver them from their trials and I will repay you a thousand fold with any sacrifice you ask of me." I heard a slight noise at the door and turned to find Lancelot entering the stable quietly, listening to Arthur's soliloquy. p  
"And, if your wisdom, you should determine that sacrifice must be my life for theirs, so that they can once again taste the freedom that has so long been denied to them, I will gladly make that covenant. My death will have a purpose. I ask no more than that." I felt a surge of all kinds of emotions as I heard the sincerity in his words. Lancelot had almost reached Arthur now.p  
"Don't do anything stupid," I begged him silently under my breath, but he, too, was unaware of my presence.p  
"Why do you always talk to God and not me?" Lancelot demanded.p  
"Like that," I muttered angrily.p  
"Pray, to whomever you pray, that we don't cross the Saxons," he continued, gesturing mockingly for Arthur to continue.p  
"My faith is what protects me, Lancelot, why do you question this?" Arthur asked, offended.p  
"I don't like anything that puts a man on his knees: Lancelot sneered.p  
"No man fears to kneel before the God he trusts. Without faith, without belief in something, what are we?" Arthur mused.p  
"To try and get past the Woads in the north is insanity!" Lancelot pointed out, fuming.p  
"Them we've fought before," Arthur reminded him.p  
"Not north of the Wall!" Lancelot barked. He strode closer to Arthur, so their faces were only inches apart.p  
"How many Saxons? Hmm? How many?" Arthur had no answer for him, but he held his gaze steadily. Lancelot took a deep breath and sighed.p  
"Tell me, do you believe in this mission."p  
"These people need our help," Arthur began sternly. "It is our duty to bring-"p  
"I don't care about your charge," Lancelot interjected angrily.p

"And I don't give a damn about Romans, Britains, or this island. If you desire to spend eternity in this place, Arthur, so be it. But suicide cannot be chosen for another!" Lancelot said, his voice raising.p  
"And yet you choose death, for this family!" Arthur shouted.p  
"No, I choose life! And freedom! For myself and the men, and Quinn!" Lancelot bellowed, slamming his hands down against the wood. He breathed deeply for a few moments before sitting down hard on a bale of hay. I let out the breath I had been unintentionally holding for the past few seconds, my heart racing. Arthur, however, has regained his calm.p  
"How many times in battle have we snatched victory from the jaws of defeat" Outnumbered, outflanked, but still we triumph? With you at my side we can do so again. Lancelot, we are knights. What other purpose do we serve if not for such a cause?" But Lancelot was already 

shaking his head.p  
"Arthur, you fight for a world that will never exist. Never," he reemphasized. He got up and leaned over the stable to face Arthur.p

"I will die in battle," he proclaimed, nodding his head. "Of that I'm certain. But hopefully, a battle of my choosing. But, if it be this one, grant me a favor: don't bury me in our sad little cemetery. Burn me. Burn me, and cast my ashes to a strong east wind," Lancelot requested, and then stormed angrily out of the stable. Arthur stayed transfixed to the same spot, his face giving away his feelings. Losing Lancelot would kill him. The two were like brothers. And Lancelot's words just then had been worse than any battle wound could have been. I couldn't help but to finally speak up.p

"He shouldn't have said that," I commented. Arthur jumped in alarm, but calmed down once he saw me.p  
"Quinn," he breathed.p  
"I'm sorry I was eavesdropping," I apologized, exiting Arion's stall. "I was in here preparing and then you came. There was really on time to speak up. He sighed heavily.p  
"I suppose it doesn't matter. You probably think the same of me," he whispered. "Do you think me a horrible person?" I'm sure my look was one of genuine astonishment.p  
"Never!" I exclaimed vehemently. "Arthur, this is not your fault. I know you didn't want this. So do the men, deep down. Right now they just need someone to blame."p  
"Who are you blaming then, if not me?" Arthur demanded. I smirked.p  
"I'm saving all of my anger for the sexist pig who goes around calling himself a bishop," I replied slyly. That almost got a smile out of him.p  
"I've lost his respect," Arthur said mournfully. "He thinks me just another Roman who no longer cares for him." I put a reassuring hand on Arthur's shoulder.p  
"No, you haven't. He knows you care. And if he doesn't, after hearing that prayer, then his skull is even thicker than we first thought," I joked, trying to lighten up my commander's somber mood.p  
"I'll go talk to him," I offered, and Arthur looked up hopefully.p  
"Would you? He listens to you," he requested.p  
"Of course I will. He'll come around, Arthur. I can promise you that," I vowed.p  
"Thank you Quinn. For everything," he added, and I squeezed his shoulder tightly before walking away purposely. I knew where Lancelot would be. And it wouldn't be in his room preparing, that's for sure.


	5. Fighting the Inevitable

Instead of heading towards Lancelot's room I took the stairs up to the top of Hadrian's Wall. Lancelot was perched lightly on the edge, gazing out into the northern forests of Britain. He neither saw nor heard me coming.p  
"It kills him when you do that, you know," I stated, startling him enough to make him jump to his feet. He stepped back from the steep drop off quickly.p  
"Quinn," he growled angrily. "I could have fallen."p  
"Yeah, that might have been a good thing if it means no one has to put up with your attitude," I retorted.p  
"You heard that, then?" Lancelot sighed.p  
"Well, you were shouting at each other the entire time," I scolded. "I'm pretty sure the goddamn Saxons heard you."P  
"Oh, don't exaggerate," he snapped.P  
"I'll stop when you quit being a dolt and blaming Arthur!" I shot back.p

"What am I supposed to do, Quinn? Surrender like an obedient dog?" He was shouting again.p  
"No! You're supposed to save your anger for someone who actually deserves it!" I yelled. "Like the bishop, or Rome, or even the filthy Saxons. You're supposed to swallow your pride and arrogance for once in your life and deal with it!" Lancelot flinched as if he'd been struck. Ok, I might have been a little harsh, so I tried again, in a quieter tone.p  
"You're fighting the wrong people, Lancelot. You're pushing away people who love you, who would die for you. The ones you should be clinging to with all of your strength. You know this is not his fault!"p  
"He should have done something," he argued, but his resolve was weakening already.p  
"If you think he didn't fight against this, then I don't know who you are anymore. Because the Lancelot i know is Arthur's closest and most trusted friend, and would be defending him right now, not accusing him," I finished. Lancelot looked up at me, his eyes sparkling.p  
"I know he cares for us," he began, his voice slightly unsteady. "And I know that he wanted our freedom as much as we did."p  
"Then why do you torment him with talk of death? You can't see what that does to him..." I trailed off.P  
"Death is a part of life Quinn. There's no point in avoiding it."p  
"Yes, but there's no need to flaunt it either!" I cried. "And you forget that Arthur's parents are buried in the 'sad little cemetery' of ours." Lancelot paled; he had forgotten.p  
"I want to be free, Quinn. Forever. And that just can't happen if I'm closed up in a hole in the Earth." I sighed.p  
"Well, you picked a great time to reveal that wish," I mumbled sarcastically.p

"You know I'm right, though," he said softly. "The Woads have absolute control of the north. They're everywhere, and they don't like us. We won't even get close enough to the Saxons to worry about them," he finished bitterly. My heart dropped. I had been pushing that thought out of my mind as long as possible, but hearing it verbalized made it a fact, not an opinion.p  
"Lancelot, we have to do this. It's not like we have a choice. If we refuse we will be killed. At least this way there is a chance of survival, no matter how slim it may be. Our fate is in our hands, not theirs," I reasoned with him.p  
"I know that," he sighed, frustrated. "And Arthur knows I would follow him, even if it was not necessary. You would too. That's why he didn't bother asking us earlier. And I hate it. i hate that I'm so predictable, and can be controlled like that."p  


"You're not being controlled!" I cried. "It's love, and loyalty, that creates that bind. And you should embrace it, not push it away. Without it, we wouldn't be here. There would be no Round Table, no legends of Arthur's knights, no us..."p  
"Us?" He asked quietly, and I nodded. He closed the distance between us in a single stride and pulled me in close to his body, holding me tightly there.p  
"Stay with me tonight?" He whispered in my ear, and the words sent chills down my spine.p  
"Not tonight. Another time, when there's not so much to think about," I tried to compromise.p  
"Quinn, there might not be another night. No one knows what will happen when we cross the wall tomorrow. We need to make the most of the time that we have left." And there he was, using my own argument against me. I looked into his chocolate eyes and my stomach somersaulted.p  
"We'll see. We both need to prepare," I reminded him gently. p  
"That will take no time," he murmured into my ear, and I almost moaned out loud as him lips brushed against my skin.p  
"Well, I'm going to go do it now," I said, breaking out of his arms and walking away. He chuckled softly.p  
"You're just fighting the inevitable, Quinn!" he called after me, and even though I knew it was probably true I kept walking, ignoring him. It was best not to inflate his head any more than necessary. So, I continued to my room as if nothing had happened and began to gather my equipment and supplies that i would need, rolling everything neatly into packs that could be tied to Arion's saddle. Once that was done i moved to cleaning my armor, using metal filaments and a coarse sponge to scrub off every speck of dirt, rust or blood that stained my ensemble. Then I broke out the oils that would add extra layers of protection while also making it shine. While I worked the liquids into the grooves and pits of the metal i let my mind wander as I had with Arion, my own personal form of meditation. After a while, a strand of hair fell out of place and into my view, so I pushed it back with one hand without thinking, clearing my sight.p  
"You look so calm when you do that," a voice commented from the doorway. I didn't have to look up to know that it was Lancelot, but I did anyways, and saw him leaning against the doorway, serene and relaxed in the dim light. All of the tension that had been building up inside him previously had disappeared, making me forget our current situation for a moment.p  
"I am calm," was my murmured reply. "How long have you been there?"p  
"not too long," he assured me, "but long enough." p  
"Lancelot, we really should be getting our rest for tomorrow," I tried to reason with him, but he wasn't buying it.p  
"I told you, Quinn, I want you to be with me tonight."p  
"You should be packing," I said, scrambling for an excuse.p  
"Done," he said, moving closer to me.p  
"Tending to Saoirse," I continued, naming his horse. He kept moving towards me, pinning me against the wall, his arms blocking an escape on either side of me.p  
"Done," he murmured close to my ear.p  
"Talking to Arthur?" I suggested, trying to ignore my hormones doing a happy little dance. He nuzzled his face into the base of my neck, his lips gently caressing.p  
"Later," he whispered seductively and my whole being responded to his words. iTo hell with resting/i, I thought to myself, and finally caved in, my body arching, giving away my desires. Lancelot's laugh was little more than a whisper.p

"See? Fighting the inevitable," he muttered. p

My response was to start undoing the buttons of his shirt. He returned the favor, and we practically ripped the clothes off one another, our bodies pressed together tightly, each of us feeling the muscles and scars of the other. Lancelot ran his lips across the front of my neck and i couldn't hold back the strangled sound that escaped my lips. I wanted him. All of him. Now. p

I pulled him down onto the bed, hard, and he rolled on top of me, pushing my half-finished armor off the edge of the bed where it clattered to the floor noisily. I barely noticed. i was too intent on getting those damn pants off. Lancelot, feeling my frustration, grabbed my hands.p  
"Down, girl," he teased. "This is just the beginning." Oh, he had no idea.


	6. Merrick

The next morning came too quickly, as I had known it would. When I woke up, I over in my bed and looked around. As I had expected, Lancelot was no longer there with me. It was just as well. We did try to keep these night time occurrences to ourselves. The other knights gossiped like old women and we would never hear the end of it otherwise. I got up slowly, holding the blanket tightly around my body to ward off the morning cold, trying to shake off the sluggishness that accompanied the few hours of sleep I had managed to get. I pulled on some riding clothes, and a layer of light, protective leather, saving the plate armor for a real battle when it would be needed. A harsh rap on the door let me know that everyone was getting ready to leave. I quickly tied my hair back, picked up my packs, and opened the door to find Dagonet.p  
"Good morning," I greeted him, attempting to stifle a yawn and only partially succeeding.p  
"I'd bet," he remarked, raising his eyebrows.p  
"What?" I demanded. p  
"You could have at least been quiet about it," he grumbled. "Some of us were trying to sleep when your pile of metal armor came crashing to the floor late at night." I blushed a little. p  
"Sorry, but I'm sure I don't have any idea what you're talking about. It must have fallen on its own accord," I replied. He smirked.p  
"Yes, I'm sure that particular part of your memory is a bit hazy," he commented. "Just do us all a favor and try not to fall off of your horse this time."p  
"Once! I did that once. And does anyone ever let me forget it? No! It was just one time!"p  
"Well, that is one more time than the rest of us," Dagonet replied, grinning. I shoved him back into the hallway so I could exit my room, and together we made our way to the stables, bickering like children the whole way.p  
We were the last to arrive and our friends were already scattered around the area, preparing their supplies and horses for the journey ahead of us. I fed Arion a treat and then started saddling him up when Arthur walked in, looking somber. Galahad, who was being even more obnoxious than usual this morning, started riding his horse in tight circles around Arthur, his steed prancing anxiously underneath him, meaning to intimidate Arthur and block his way. Arthur, however, never faltered and continued walking at a steady pace. Once he was clear I took the apple I had been about to feed Arion and chucked it at Galahad's head, making him jump and roll off his horse as she reared back in surprise. Tristan stifled a laugh as I grinned smugly, turning to Dagonet.p  
"Now I'm not the only one!" I declared triumphantly.p  
"That's cheating; it doesn't count," he informed me, and I pouted.p

"Sure it does. He fell because of the apple, I fell because of sleep deprivation. If his doesn't count than neither does mine," I shot back. Dagonet just rolled his eyes, falling into silence as we were joined by more people. All sound stopped as the Bishop and his assistant entered the stables, but it wasn't out of respect, I can tell you that much. The hostility in the air was thick enough to cut with a dull knife. The only thing us knights were worried about cutting, however, was the Bishop's throat. Dagonet and Bors made a point out of taking their swords out and polishing them gently.p  
"To represent the holy court, my trusted secretary, Horton, will accompany you on your journey," the bishop stated. I snorted in disbelief. He would just slow us down. Arthur, however, knew that this was non-negotiable.p  
"Jols, find him a horse," he requested. Jols didn't move, surprised by the order. "Jols," Arthur requested gently, and he scurried off to do as he was told.p  


"Your freedom will be waiting for you when you return," the bishop assured you. "Godspeed, as you complete your journey to Rome."p  
"My duty is also to my men," Arthur stated resolutely. The Bishop smirked.p  
"Then bring them home," he said. "May God go with you." Yup, that's real helpful, saying that to a bunch of PAGANS!! I thought to myself as Germanius exited the stable. I finished getting Arion's tack on him and mounted up, everyone else doing the same. Jols had to help Horton up onto his relatively small horse, which gave everyone a final small smile before we set off, thundering out of the stables in a single file line, everyone falling into their usual order and Horton bringing up the rear awkwardly. The enormous gates that had kept intruders out of the southern half of the island groaned with protest as they were dragged open by the large Clydesdale horses straining against their harnesses. The land that the door opened up to looked exactly the same as the side we normally occupied. That surprised me every time I looked at it. With all of the fuss about who controlled what, and who was allowed where, I kept expecting the two halves to be drastically different. But, like every other time, all I saw were rolling plains and thick forests in the distance. Our line slowed down once we all passed through the massive gate until we were trotting and then eventually walking. We knew we had a long way to go in a short amount of time, but it was no use wearing everyone out too soon. Besides, the open grasslands were the safest place to be. It was the forest we had to worry about. The Woads would be set on revenge after our little skirmish the previous day, and the forest was their natural habitat, while to us it was a dark, mysterious environment. p

I noticed Horton fidgeting in his saddle and dropped back to have a word with him.p  
"Slide forward in the saddle a little," I advised him. "It will help center your weight and make it more comfortable. He glanced up quickly, as if frightened to meet my gaze and nodded briskly before looking down again. It reminded me of my first few weeks with the men, when they had still been unsure of what to think of me as a woman, and that annoyed me. Jols saw my reaction and grinned.p

"Cut him some slack," he whispered. "You remember when you were learning, same as him."p  
"Actually, I'm fairly sure I was never Ithat/I bad. And if it was I was three years old." Jols laughed.p  
"Now you sound like Lancelot," he admonished, and I blanched at the idea. That, was a scary thought.p  
"One is more than enough," I muttered darkly.p  
"Honestly, Quinn. All of us had to suffer through years of rigorous training. He didn't have any of that. You've had years to perfect your skills. And if I remember correctly, you too had some trouble starting out. Maybe not with riding, but, perhaps, unarmed combat?" I flinched involuntarily. That had never been my strongest point, and even now I still struggled more than the others. I was good, better than the average, but not great, like Dagonet and Bors were. I had to practice twice as long and hard to achieve the same feats as my fellow knights. My mind wandered back to the end of our training, when we were all preparing for the tests that would determine if we became knights or not...p

Flashbackp

Something hit the back of my legs, hard, and my feet flew out from under me, plopping me painfully on my butt. I slammed my palms against the hard dirt angrily. Why couldn't I just get this right?p  


"Are you all right Quinn?" A warm voice filled with concern asked, and a hand appeared in front of me. I took it and was immediately pulled upright again so that I came face to face with the same person who had knocked me down to begin with.p  
"Thanks, Merrick, but I'm fine. Let's do it again."p  
"Quinn, we've been at this for hours. You're not going to be able to do this if you're too tired to stand," Merrick pointed out.p  
"Merrick, I'm fine. If you don't want to help anymore then you can go. I'll find Dagonet and he'll practice with me."p  
"Quinn, he'd kill you accidentally. He could squish you like a bug," Merrick remarked.p  
"Then let's do it again. Unless you want me to go find Lancelot." He groaned.p  
"Please. Spare me. Besides, he couldn't help you the way I can." Hmm, why did I suddenly feel this was no longer about practicing.p  
"Good, now that we're past that," I kicked my foot out at his gut, trying to catch him off guard. He caught my foot and held It.p  
"I could have just spun your ass onto the floor again," he reprimanded.p  
"You should have," I grumbled. "You can't hold back. I can't not become a knight just because of this."p  
"Quinn, I promise you that will not happen. I'm not going to let it. I don't care if I have to make up a completely new style of fighting for you, you will pass your unarmed combat exam," he promised me. I looked up into his sea green eyes and knew that the words were sincere.P  
"Thanks, Merrick. It really means a lot to me." He grinned his insane, boyish grin and finally dropped my foot.p  
"I wouldn't want anyone else watching my back out there," he replied. "I need you with me so I can keep you out of trouble too." I smiled.p  
"We're going to do this, Merrick. We're going to be knights, and go on incredible missions and journeys. You'll watch my back and I'll watch yours, just like we always have." I sighed. "I can't believe that this training is almost done."P  
"I know. All those years of practicing will have finally paid off. People won't take us for granted anymore."p  
"Well I wouldn't count on that, but at least we'll be able to get out of this stupid fort once in a while," I stated. Merrick nodded enthusiastically.p  
"Let's just hope that Arthur passes his exam to become our commander. I don't think I can stand these bloody Romans for the next eleven years," Merrick complained.p  
"I'm with you on that," I agreed. "At least Arthur tries to understand us. All the Romans care about is getting us to be killing machines."p  
"Which leaves us here, working on this," Merrick said, snapping your attention back to the task at hand. "Now, since you're not going to have a size advantage over anyone," I hit him playfully, "you have to beat them somehow else. Use your advantages. You're lightning fast, so never stop moving. Get them confused at when you're going to go for a big blow."p  
"Do the little things to distract them. Fight dirty. Poke at their eyes, step on their feet, and remember all of the tender spots on the hands in case they grab at you. If you're really desperate, knee them in the crotch, because you can bet that you won't be going up against another girl." I nodded, letting his words sink in. It wasn't the most chivalrous method, but as Merrick had said, I was desperate. I'd do anything it took. p  
We took our ready positions and Merrick rushed at me, swinging his fists. I ducked and stepped to the side, casually leaving one foot in place to trip him. He tumbled to the ground in a 

somersault and came up right away, grinning.p  
"Excellent!" He complimented me. "Just do it like that, be patient and wait for them to make a move. Then you can play to your strengths."p  
We spent hours practicing small movements I could make to disarm my foes. By the time we had stopped there was only an hour or two until the sun would rise and our daily training would begin. I slumped against the wall of the practice courts, exhausted, but feeling confident in my new skills. Merrick took a long draught from a water container and then held it out to me. I accepted gratefully and guzzled down the cool liquid. We sat in silence for a few minutes, catching our breaths.p  
"That was great," Merrick commented, finally breaking the silence. "You'll do fine now, I think you've finally gotten the hang of it." I nodded.p  
"Thanks for doing this with me, Merrick. I really appreciate it."p  
"Don't worry about it, Quinn. Any time you need the help just let me know. It was actually kind of fun. I don't think I've ever been so happy to be beaten," he joked.p  
"You weren't letting me win, were you?" I asked seriously.p  
"I'll admit it, I took it easy on you at first,"p  
"Merrick!" I complained.p  
"Hey, let me finish. It was just in the beginning. I wanted you to get more comfortable and confident. For the last two hours I've been going full out, and you've still beaten me plenty of times. Now I'm going to actually have to work to stay top of the class," he whined, kidding around with me. I snorted in disbelief.p  
"Yeah, right. You were born to do this. It's freakish how easily this comes to you. You and Tristan both. Except Tristan actually has to practice for a full five minutes before he perfects the skill. I swear, you could watch someone fight once and then be able to copy their style and rhythm flawlessly," I retorted. He just shrugged.p  
"Maybe I can. But so can Lancelot. And you can too, you just don't think you can," he pointed out.p  
"If you say so," I replied skeptically, not quite believing him.p

Flashback Overp

"Quinn?" Arthur called my name, and my mind was brought back into the presentp  
"What?" I asked, sitting up straighter on my horse.p  
"Are you with us? Jols said you weren't responding."p  
"I'm fine. I was jut... thinking," I sighed. Arthur nodded.p  
"We need you here with us, Quinn," he whispered so no one else could hear. "Try to stay focused. This isn't our territory, and anything could happen." I nodded and hung my head, a little ashamed that I had let my mind wander like that. Arthur put a comforting hand on my shoulder before riding back up to the front of the line.


	7. Trials

I urged my horse forward and joined Dagonet, coming up right next to him.p  
"Merrick again?" He asked gently. I nodded, afraid to meet his eyes. He sighed. "I'm sorry, Quinn, this is my fault. I shouldn't have said that yesterday. I was out line, and I apologize. Do you want to talk about it?"p  
"No," I replied hoarsely, shaking my head.p  
"I'll be here if you do," Dagonet promised me, and I gave him a small grateful smile. This was why Dagonet was my best friend, hands down. It took time for him to let people see past his harsh exterior, but when he did, the person inside was so incredible it was hard to believe that they were actually the same person.p  
I looked around and saw that we were already about to enter the large forest that had been looming in front of us as a common threat.p  
"Stay together," Arthur warned us before we started off slowly into the woods as stealthily as possibly with eight knights, a squire and an assistant all on horseback. The forest was dark, cramped, and more than a little unsettling. I could feel the Woads constant presence building around us, and it was making everyone antsy. The wind whistled eerily through the trees, sending chills up my spine. It almost sounded like laughter. Tristan trotted his horse up ahead to stand next to Arthur, and I followed him. Shapes blurred in the woods around me, and in the distance I heard the howl of a lone wolf. Blaez.p

"Woads," I muttered to Arthur. "They're tracking us."p  
"Where?" Arthur asked.P  
"Everywhere," Tristan answered in a hushed tone.p  
"Why do I feel like we're walking right into a trap?" I pondered out loud. Arthur opened his mouth to answer, but before he could, the trap I had feared sprang into action. Woads that had been hiding in the trees let loose arrows that were tied to ropes lined with long, sharp barbs. Instead of firing into our company, however, they embedded themselves in the trees in front of us, creating a web that was impossible to cross and would take far too long to chop through. Arthur wheeled his stallion around and galloped in the other direction, shouting for us to follow him. I spurred Arion away from the spiky barrier and down a narrow pathway. Arrows were raining down upon us, but somehow managed not to hit anything vital, only spook the horses slightly. Arthur stopped short as a human wall of blue skinned warriors holding deadly looking spears popped up in front of him. That's when it all clicked into place. They weren't killing us with the arrows because they weren't aiming at us.p  
"Herding," I whispered. "Arthur, they're herding us!" I repeated, much louder this time. His face paled as realization spread across his features.p  
"Quinn, get us out of here!" He yelled. I took his place at the head of the line and started curving through the trees, trying to avoid spots that looked like the Woads could have set a snare. They apparently had thought of everything though, because a fence of sharpened sticks appeared in front of me suddenly, causing Arion to rear up in shock. I brought him down to all fours and he backed away nervously. I did a tight 180 and shot back the way we had come.p  
"Back!" Bors bellowed, trying to warn Galahad and Gawain of the danger before the narrow passageway we were trying to escape from. Gawain was in too far to do anything that quickly, but Galahad spun his nimble-footed steed around and galloped off, but in the wrong direction. He was heading back towards the spot that Woads had initially confronted us in. p  
"Galahad!" I shouted, trying to warn him, but he was too caught up in the moment to pay me any heed. I only had two options. Follow him or leave him to fend for himself against the entire Woad army while I got everyone else out. It was one of the easiest decisions I'd ever had to 

make. I pushed Arion down the path Galahad had taken, motioning for the others to follow us too. Before I knew it we were right back where we had started. There was only one difference. There were Woads everywhere, forming a full circle around us, trapping us. We drew our swords in unison for what was likely to be the last time. A horn sounded in the distance, and the Woads looked up in shock.p  
"Come on, what are you waiting for?" Bors bellowed. The horn sounded again, and something strange happened. The Woads started to retreat back into the shadows.p  
"Blue demons. Inish devil gods!" Dagonet cursed.p  
"What are they doing?" I hissed to Lancelot.p  
"Merlin doesn't want us dead yet," Arthur stated, peering out into the darkness, trying to get a glimpse of their elusive leader. Now, there was a scary thought. The Woads had always been our enemies; that had never fluctuated. What could possibly have happened to cause this drastic of a change?p  
I nudged Arion forward cautiously as the last Woads drifted back, but they did nothing to stop my advance. We carried on in complete silence for the rest of the night, wary and alert in case they changed their mind. Even the horses seemed to get the idea, and were taking care to tread lightly and not crack any sticks lying on the ground. There was nothing I wanted more than to get out of this forest, but it soon became clear that we would have to stop to rest for the night, mostly because of that blasted assistant Horton, who was not used to the unyielding life of knighthood. We found a small clearing and picketed the horses, letting them rest and graze while we set up a rough camp. A small fire was lit, and we warmed up some of the dried meat we had brought with us. After eating just enough to sustain us, it was time to rest.p  
"I'll take first watch," Arthur offered. "You men get some rest, we've got a long ride ahead of us tomorrow. Especially you Quinn, you look dead on your feet." I knew he wasn't saying this only because he knew I hadn't gotten much sleep last night, but also because of my episode earlier in the day.p  
"I can take a watch," I protested.p  
"We'll need you alert tomorrow," Arthur reminded me.p  
:Just go to sleep and stop being stubborn," Lancelot interjected and I glared at him.p  
"Quinn," Dagonet growled as I opened my mouth to protest. I shut it quickly and sat down in defeat, letting out a huff of breath. Arthur walked off to find a good place to be the lookout, and Dagonet sat down next to my bedroll, my own silent protector. I was about to start up a conversation when the exhaustion I had been putting off for the whole day finally kicked in. I was asleep before the first words left my mouth. The dreams began almost immediately after.p

Flashbackp

I paced my quarters impatiently, nervously anticipating the trials that lay ahead of me. Today was the day that the last four years of harsh training had led up to. We were being tested one by one to see if we would become knights for the next 11 years, or if we were to be stuck at the village, doing busywork and chores. I shuddered at the thought. That would be awful, even though I knew most of what I would be doing would be necessary for the survival of our little town. It would just be so... boring. To make things worse, they were drawing out the torture. I was the last one to go, and since I was not allowed to talk to anyone who had already completed their trial I had no idea what the fate of my friends had been. I don't know why I was so nervous; no one in their right mind would fail Merrick, Lancelot, Dagonet or Tristan, but I was. What if they had gotten hurt or made a horrible mistake? What if I made a mistake?p

"Quinn," my worrying was interrupted by a squire. "They want to see you now," he added unnecessarily. I took a deep breath and then followed the boy out of the room and towards the training yards. It felt like I was a prisoner being led to my own execution. My nerves kept building until drawing each breath seemed to be a challenge. The walls of the already narrow hall kept moving closer and closer together, trying to suffocate me. It was working. Then we were out of the building and in the training area that had become so familiar over the past four years. And now it looked exactly the same as it always did. There was no impossible obstacle course of doom, no terrible beast for me to slay, just some on looking knights, men who had helped train me, men I was familiar with. As all of this sunk in my fears started to evaporate, reducing down to the slightest tingling in my stomach that I knew would only motivate me later. One of the knights saw me and smiled, beckoning me over to him.p  
"You know the drill Quinn," he said. "Just go through the normal paces. You'll be tested in each of the four major disciplines; armed and unarmed combat, horsemanship and archery. You choose the order that you test in," he finished, and I nodded.p

"Very well, trainee. Choose your first station. May luck be with you," another knight that I'd never met before added somberly. I thought this over carefully.p

"Archery." My voice came out as little more than a whisper. The knight looked up at me.p  
"What was that?" He asked.p  
"Archery," I repeated more firmly, my voice confident. The knight nodded his approval and I made my way over to the practice range. I tested each bow carefully before choosing the one I wanted to use. Then I stepped up to the line, put an arrow to the string, took aim and let loose. The arrow flew through the air and struck the bulls eye of the target with a thud. A grin of relief spread across my face. I could do this. My confidence shot up another notch when my next arrow hit the small target right next to the first. So did the next one. And the one after that. After my fifth arrow an on looking knight motioned for me to cease fire.p  
"Well, I think we've seen enough of that," he said, grinning. "Next."p  
"Armed combat," I stated. His eyebrows shot up in shock. Apparently not many of the others had chosen this path. However, I knew that doing it before horsemanship would give me some time to rest up before unarmed combat, and I would need every ounce of strength for that. I was led to the open training courts, where a table with an array of armor and weapons was waiting for me.p  
"Suit up," the knight nearest me said, and then backed up a few paces to give me my space. I scoped out the table carefully before choosing a shirt of lightweight armor and picking up a short sword. I nodded to the attendant to show that I was ready, and he motioned for my opponent to step into the ring with me. It was Miles, a knight that I had sparred with before. And I knew exactly what he would do. He would rush me, try to keep me on the defensive and never give me a chance to strike. And he did. I was ready for it, and held of his flurry of blows steadily, but never gave up any ground. Once he realized I wasn't going to move his strokes became slower and more cautious. I took this opportunity to press my own attack, driving him backwards slowly but surely. Soon he was cornered, his back pressed up against the fence surrounding the ring. He panicked, and tried to spin out of it, throwing an overhand blow at me. I ducked and twisted out of the way, bringing my sword up to meet his at the same time, and the twist that I had been doing counteracted his own spin and sent the blade flying out of his hand and out of the ring. I held my sword pointed at his chest until he held his hands up in defeat, smiling all the while.p  
"Well played, Quinn," he complimented me. "Very nice." I smiled widely.p  


"You should have gone down and out instead of trying the spin," I advised, and he nodded.p  
"Yeah, I figured that out halfway through the spin. Good luck with the rest." I shook his hand in thanks, and then headed towards the stables, where another knight was waiting to explain my task. All I had to do was a quick obstacle course to show that I could control my horse, and then a few exercises to prove that I could multi-task and use a weapon while riding. I got Arion ready and then took him through the paces, nailing every jump, turn, target and everything else they threw at me. Arion probably could have done it all without me guiding him, so I could spend all of my concentration on keeping my form perfect. After I was through unsaddling him and washing him down I was led back to the fighting arena for the last trial. Unarmed combat. Oh boy.p

Whereas I had been lucky in my opponent for armed combat, this man I had to fight now was the worst possibility. Aiden was a very good fighter. He was quick, hard to read, and his form was practically flawless. I felt the nerves begin to re-enter my body as we faced each other, waiting on the other to make the first move. I was content to sit there all day if he wanted to, but apparently that wasn't his plan. He came at me hard and fast, and everything that I had been taught few out of my head. All I could do was put my hands up and try to stop most of the blows. That wasn't enough, and he took advantage of it, getting my hands busy up near my head, and then landing a hard kick to my stomach. The air left my body in a huge whoosh, and I fell to the ground, at least managing to turn that into a roll away from Aiden. I blinked to clear the spots out of my vision, and then he was on me again. This time I at least managed to sidestep out of the way of most of it, and only got clipped on the shoulder. I got my balance and kicked at his stomach, but he caught my foot and spun me to the floor. I hit with a hard thump. Then, a light bulb went on in my brain. This had happened before. With Merrick. And I did know what to do. We had practiced this. For hours. I rolled away from Aiden again, putting enough distance between us to give me time to climb back to my feet. This time when he rushed me I left my foot out as I slid away. This time he was the one to roll to the ground, and when he got to his feet his movements became more wary. We circled for a while before he finally came at me again. I waited until the last second, and then ducked slightly, lowering my shoulder into his abdomen, flipping him over my back. Before he could recover I jumped onto his back, trying to pin his arms behind his back. He somehow managed to turn his body around and intercept me head on, grabbing one of my wrists in one large hand. I used my free hand to pinch the tender flap of skin between his thumb and forefinger and he let go with a yelp. I grabbed his arm and used my full body weight to roll both of us over, so that I was above him and he was lying on his stomach, face down. I twisted his arm a little further, so that even slight movements would be painful, and he took in a sharp breath. Then he slapped his free hand on the ground.p  
"I yield," he stated loudly, so everyone around us could hear. I let go of his arm and helped him to his feet. He patted me on the back, grinning.p  
"Congratulations," he said. "I believe that you have just become a knight." A huge smile spread across my face. "Go see your friends," he advised me, and I ran off to do just that. Instead of heading back towards the rooms though, I went towards the dining hall. Merrick was waiting just inside, pacing as I had been earlier. He looked up as I walked in, and I nodded, just once. He knew what it meant. His face broke out into a smile and he ran over to me, picking me up and spinning me around, laughing all the while.p  
"I told you you could do it!" He exclaimed exuberantly, and I laughed along with him. Maybe the next 11 years wouldn't be so bad after all...


	8. The Honorius Estate

Regular Time/POVp

I woke up with a start as someone pushed on my shoulder. I instinctively rolled away from them and up into a crouch, drawing the dagger I always wore on my belt. Dagonet held his hands up and backed off a little, grinning.p  
"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," he apologized. "But we're leaving soon and you still need to pack." I muttered my own apology and started rolling up the thin sheet I had slept on. Everyone else was doing the same, erasing all traces our presence with brutal efficiency. Horton stood off to the side and tried not to get in the way, which was just as well. p  
"Any trouble last night?" I asked Galahad as he passed close by me. He snorted.p  
"Only Dagonet's snoring," he joked, and I laughed softly. p

"They kept their distance," Arthur added more seriously. "Did you get enough rest?" I nodded, because for the most part I had. At least this dream had been a good one. Normally they were much, much worse. Tristan, who had been notably absent, rode his horse back into the clearing.p  
"The road's clear," he reported to Arthur, and I gave our commander a pointed look.p  
"You could have woken me up for that," I scolded him, but he just shrugged.p  
"You needed the sleep more. Tristan could handle it on his own." I scowled, even though it was probably true. Gawain cuffed me on the head lightly as he walked by.p  
"We like you the most, Quinn. Deal with it," he told me, and I had to fight to keep the smile off of my face. The mood stayed light and carefree until we got back on our horses and set off again. With our speed we were likely to make it to the Honorius estate later today, as long as there were no unfriendly encounters along the road. Surprisingly, considering our luck, there weren't. We exited the forest with high spirits; the Woads had stayed out of our way, their presence barely even noticeable. In the distance the shape of the Honorius estate began to form, getting larger and more defined as we rode towards it quickly. Even as we were approaching, I got an uneasy feeling about the place. Maybe it was the fact that all of the guards were heavenly armed, many keeping their weapons out of their sheaths. Or perhaps it was the sorry state of the peasants who occupied the grounds around the estate; the way their ragged clothes hung loosely on their too thin backs. Or, most likely, it was because I knew that there was a Saxon invasion about to happen any day, and this town would soon be burned to the ground. Yeah, it was probably the last one. We increased our speed to a gallop as we reached the dirt path that would bring us to the gate leading into the estate, which was hanging open. Then, do you know what those guards did? They closed the door right in our faces. Ungrateful little...p  
"Who are you?" One of them called from on top of the wall.p  
"I am Arthur Castus, commander of the Sarmatian knights, and by Bishop Germanius of Rome. Open this gate." As the doors began to open slowly, warily, the serfs who had been working began crowding around us, staring at us in awe. They looked even more pathetic from close up. When was the last time these poor people had gotten a proper meal? A man in fine robes came out of the estate, two guards trailing a step behind him.p

"It is a wonder you have come!" Marius Honorius exclaimed. "Good Jesus, Arthur and his knights!" He finished, locking his hands in prayer. He reached up to pat Galahad's horse, but she skittered away from his touch. He he, smart girl.p  
"You have fought the Woads. Vile creatures," Marius spat. Arthur, however, had no time for idle chatting, and cut straight to the chase. p  
"Our orders are to evacuate you," he stated. Marius's eyes widened and he looked around at all of us nervously.p

"Th-that is impossible!" He stuttered. Arthur ignored his displeasure.p  
"Which is Alecto?" He asked, loudly enough for everyone to hear.p  
"I am," came a voice from atop the wall. We all glanced up to see a boy who could be no older than seventeen standing with his mother. He quickly disappeared from sight, and then reappeared a moment later behind his father.p

"Alecto is my son. And everything we have is here in the land given to us by the Pope of Rome," Marius said, still intent on staying right where he was.p  
"Well, you're about to give it to the Saxons," Lancelot informed him.p  
"They're invading from the North," Arthur clarified, and it looked as though Marius's eyes would pop out of their sockets.p  
"Then Rome will send an army," he said decidedly.p  
"They have," Lancelot started.p  
"Us," I pointed out, taking immense delight in watching Marius squirm uncomfortably.p  
"We leave as soon as you're packed," Arthur told him. Marius set his chin stubbornly.p  
"I refuse to leave." There was an extremely tense moment, in which Arthur and Marius stared at each other, seeing who would back down first. Obviously it was Marius. He ripped his gaze away, and started shouting orders at the peasants watching in disbelief.p  
"Go back to work! All of you! Get back to work!" He yelled. The guards took this as their cue, and started pushing around the serfs, throwing a few of them to the ground if they moved too slowly. I tightened my grip on the reins involuntarily, afraid that I would lose my temper and start interfering. Luckily, I was spared because Arthur drew the attention back to him as he dismounted his horse, his scarlet cape swirling around him.p  
"If I fail to bring you and your son back, my men can never leave this land," Arthur began menacingly. "So you're coming with me if I have to tie you to my horse and drag you all the way to Hadrian's Wall myself." He bowed his head mockingly, and added for the sake of politeness, "My lord." p  
"Lady, my knights are hungry," Arthur commanded, and Marius's wife went scurrying off to prepare something for us to eat. Thank God. I was starving. But, right now, that was the least of my worries.p  
"Come on, let's go," Bors suggested, clearly thinking with his stomach. Arthur, however, did not move. Instead he looked around, taking in the sight of all of the serfs being forced to work. Then he saw an elderly man hanging in chains in the center of the meek little village. That gleam came into his eye, the one he only got when he was about to do something that would probably piss a lot of people off. He drew Excalibur from its sheath and began walking purposefully towards the hanging man. One of the peasants approached Arthur on his way.p  
"Sir. You're famous! You're Arthur, aren't you? I'm Ganis, I'm a good fighter and I'm smart. I'd serve you proudly," he finished, slowing down with Arthur as he came to a stop in front of the hanging man. "Sir?" He questioned uncertainly when Arthur did not reply.p  
"Who is this man?" Arthur questioned, pointing at him with his sword.p  
"He's our village elder," Ganis supplied.p  
"What is this punishment for?" There was a momentary pause as Ganis hesitated. "Answer me!" Arthur bellowed.p  
"He defied our master, Marius. Most of the food we grow is sent out by sea to be sold. He asked to keep a little more for ourselves, that's all," Ganis said defensively. "My arse has been snappin' at the grass, I'm so hungry! You're from Rome! Is it true that Marius is a spokesman for God? And that it is a sin to defy him?" All of the other serfs started murmuring their areal, 

and Arthur looked around at all of them.p  
"I tell you now. Marius is not of God. And you - all of you - were free from your first breath," he finished loudly, and then hefted Excalibur up and brought it down on the chains holding the village elder up, severing them neatly in half.p  
"Help this man," Arthur commanded. When they didn't move fast enough, he shouted, "Help him!" A few women scurried forward to assist the old man, and Arthur turned to face the crowd.p  
"Now hear me. A vast and terrible army is coming this way. They will show no mercy, spare no one. Those of you who are able should begin to gather your things and move south, towards Hadrian's Wall. Those unable shall come with us." He turned back to Ganis. "You. Help me now. Get these people ready." Then he strode back towards where we were all waiting on our horses.p  
"Right! You heard him! You go grab enough food and water for the journey. Let's get a hurry on or else we're all dead!" Ganis took control of the situation smoothly, but I tuned him out. P  
"Are you sure that was wise?" I asked Arthur when he reached us. He looked up at me.p  
"I know it wasn't, Quinn. But it had to be done."P  
"I know that," I sighed. "And, hey, what's one more person who doesn't like us? They can join the club and get in line," I joked, and the corners of Arthur's mouth twitched up at the validity of my statement. Then the seriousness returned. p  
"Go with Tristan and find out how much time we have," Arthur whispered so only the two of us could hear. We nodded, and took off again, this time going beyond the estate. The wind began to pick up, and a light snow began to fall. Good. Snow made it so much easier to pick up tracks. Once we were a safe distance past the estate I whistled for Blaez. He came bounding out of the woods to ride alongside us, faithful as ever. p

After a while, Tristan and I dove back into the woods, since there was no sign of anyone on the open land. This yielded much more informational results, since a few minutes later Blaez picked up a scent. He led us up a steep cliff to and outcropping of rock which overlooked a small canyon. Marching through the canyon was an entire army of Saxons. My breath caught in my throat as I took in their vast numbers. Last time had been bad enough, and there weren't even a quarter of as many fighters then. This was not good. I shot a panicked look at Tristan and saw lines of worry also creasing his usually calm face. He had come to the same conclusion. We crept away slowly, soundlessly, not wanting to alert the men to our presence, and then set off at a sprint to get back and warn Arthur. They were closer than we had originally anticipated, and time was running out.p

The scene had not changed much as we thundered back to where Arthur stood watching the serf's progress. They were making themselves busy loading up caravans and wagons full of food and clothing. p  
"They have flanked us to the east; they're coming from the south, trying to cut off our escape," Tristan reported to Arthur dutifully.p  
"They'll be here before nightfall," I supplied grimly before he even had the chance to ask. Arthur's eyes widened.p  
"How many?" He asked.p  
"An entire army," I replied, my voice low. Arthur took a deep breath.p  
"And the only way out is to the south?" Tristan shook his head.p  
"East. There is a trail, heading east. Across the mountains. It means we'll have to cross behind 

the Saxon lines, if that's the road we shall take." Tristan looked around. "Arthur, who are all these people?" He asked incredulously.p  
"They're coming with us," Arthur said resolutely. p  
"Then we'll never make it," Tristan said practically. Arthur met his eyes steadily, clearly not going to yield on this matter. Then, we all looked up, including the guards and the serfs. In the distance, the faint pounding of Saxon war drums was becoming audible. p  
"Get back to work," one of the mercenaries yelled, snapping us out of our daze. We turned around in time to see him shoving a man who was piling rocks into a wall in front of a door to a small building.p  
"What is that?" I murmured. "And why are they still walling it up when we're about to leave?" Arthur was clearly about to find out, because he got that look in his eye again. He drew Excalibur and started striding towards the building.p  
"Oh boy," I breathed, but followed him nonetheless, providing my silent support. The guards stood in his way stubbornly, trying to ensure the secrecy of the building.p  
"Move," Arthur said, his voice menacingly quiet. When this didn't cause a reaction, he raised his voice. "Move!" The mercenaries began to back up slowly, but not quickly enough as Lancelot rode his horse over and she snorted in their faces, making them stumble back over their own feet. Arthur pointed Excalibur at the building.p  
"What is this?" He demanded.p  
"You cannot go in there. No one goes in there. This place is forbidden," a monk spat out.p  
"What are you doing? Stop this!" Marius exclaimed as he pushed his way through. Or, at least he tried to, but he was blocked by two knights on large war horses. Arthur walked up to the building, feeling the still weak wall.p  
"Arthur, we have no time!" Lancelot said, exasperated.p  
"Do you not hear the drums?" Galahad asked, but Arthur paid him no heed. Instead, he nodded at the wall, and then looked over at Dagonet.p  
"Dagonet," he requested, and Dag grabbed his battle axe. It took five powerful blows to rip the whole wall down, revealing a wooden door. Arthur turned back to the shabby monk.p  
"Key," he demanded. The monk shook his head.p  
"It is locked from the inside," he stated. Arthur nodded to Dagonet to kick the door down.p  
"Wait," I said before anyone could do anything. I walked up to the door and pressed my ear against it to make sure that I could hear the rustle of air on the other side. I could, which meant there wasn't a wall similar to this on the inside, and that Dagonet wouldn't shatter his kneecap trying to break the door down. Someone had to think about things like this. I nodded at Dagonet. "All right, go ahead." He braced his arms against the door and drew back one leg, bringing it crashing against the flimsy door, rattling it in its frame. A couple of kicks later and it swung back on its hinges, letting us see what was inside. All that was visible from here was a dimly lit hallway, leading down below the earth. Lancelot dismounted as Arthur began to enter the passageway, and both of us and Dagonet followed him in. Gawain grabbed a torch and the monk, shoving him down with us.p  
"You, go," he demanded. A look from Arthur appointed him our lookout, and he remained in the doorway to make sure no one else followed us. Arthur grabbed a torch of his own, and then started down the stairs. About halfway down the smell hit us. It reeked of death and decomposing bodies that had not been cared for properly. A few steps later, and the chanting began. As we got to the bottom of the stairs, we could begin to see where the stench was coming from. There was a dead man hanging in chains on the wall, and a monk that was the 

source of the chanting. As soon as he saw us, he stopped.p  
"Who are the defilers of the Lord's temple?" He asked, outraged. Lancelot shoved him aside angrily.p  
"Out of the way," he growled, shoving him out of the way so we could fully enter the chamber. What we saw there would stay with me forever. There were cells cut into the walls, sealed with metal bars and locks. Inside, was what remained of the prisoners. They were dead.p  
"The work of your God," Lancelot spat at Arthur. "Is this how he answers your prayers?" If I had been paying attention to them I would have reprimanded Lancelot, but I was too disgusted by the sights around us.p  
"See if there's any alive," Arthur said softly. All of us spread out, going to each corner of the chamber. I stuck close to Dagonet, not really wanting to be alone down here. His large presence next to me was very reassuring. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the monk grab Lancelot's shoulder as he bent down to look into a cell.p  
"How dare you set foot in this holy place!" He snarled. Lancelot turned and drew one of his swords in the same fluid motion, and stabbed the monk in the stomach, twisting the blade before removing it angrily as he fell down, dead. The other monk that had been outside's eyes widened.p  
"That was a man of God!" He shouted.p  
"Not my God!" Lancelot roared. I turned back to Dagonet as he opened a cage.p  
"This one's dead," he announced. I grimaced.P  
"By the smell, they are all dead," I stated before turning to the remaining monk. "And you. You even move, and you'll join him," I threatened him, and he immediately became rigid. Arthur was still peering through cages when Dagonet opened the last cell on our side of the chamber. A young boy was sitting in there, trembling with cold. p  
"Arthur!" I exclaimed as Dagonet reached down and plucked the boy out, sitting him on the small ledge.p  
"You must not fear me," Dagonet commanded him. The poor little boy, I think even that frightened him. His arm was broken, and no one had done anything to fix it. I turned around to find both Arthur and Lancelot peering into a cell, this one holding a woman who was still alive as well. Arthur cut the chains and crawled in, pulling her into his arms and carrying her out. Then we booked it out of that hell hole as fast as we could, the two people we carried the only survivors out of the at least thirty that had been there. The bright lights outside stung our eyes as we emerged. Arthur started shouting orders immediately.p  
"Water! Give me some water!" He commanded, setting the girl on the ground as gently as he could. Dagonet and I picked a spot nearby, setting the boy down as well. Ganis rushed over, carrying a skin of water for Arthur. He held it to the woman's lips and coaxed some in. She got a couple sips in before she began coughing, choking on the unfamiliar liquid that she had so obviously been deprived of. Horton scurried over to me and Dagonet, with water for the boy. I helped him drink it slowly, so he wouldn't be sick.p  
"His arm is broken, " Horton said in awe. "And his family?" Dagonet shook his head slightly. Tristan approached Arthur, and his breath caught in his throat.p  
"She's a Woad," he pointed out. The woad in question opened her eyes and stared up at Arthur, a worried look on her face.p  
"I'm a Roman officer," Arthur said reassuringly. "You're safe now. You're safe."p  
"Stop what you are doing!" Marius Honorius bellowed as he came up behind us, approaching Arthur.p  


"What is this madness?" Arthur asked, outraged, as he stood up.p  
"They are all Pagans here," Marius fumed, as if that explained everything..p  
"So are we," Galahad pointed out.p  
"They refuse to do the task that God has set for them. They must die as an example!" My mouth almost dropped in shock. This man had obviously lost his marbles a long time ago. Marius's wife scurried over to the girl's side, reaching down to touch her face comfortingly.p  
"You mean they refused to be your serfs!" Arthur guessed correctly.p  
"You are a Roman! You understand. And you are a Christian!" Marius yelled at Arthur. "And you," he shouted, turning on his wife. "You kept them alive!" He took as step forward and slapped her viciously. Arthur didn't even hesitate before throwing a sharp right hook to Marius's jaw. Ever the chivalrous knight, Arthur. Arthur then drew Excalibur again and set the tip at Marius's throat.p  
"No, no. Stop!" Marius exclaimed. "When we get to the Wall, you will be punished for this heresy," he threatened. Yeah, like he was in a position to bargain.p  
"Perhaps I should kill you now and seal my fate," Arthur growled sternly. A voice from behind us interrupted their spat.p  
"I was willing to die with them. Yes, to lead them to their rightful place. It is God's wish that these sinners be sacrificed. Only then can their souls be saved." All right, this monk had definitely lost it too. Was everyone on this entire estate psychopaths? Arthur considered the monk's words.p  
"Then I shall grant His wish." He turned to Gawain and Galahad. "Wall him back up."p  
"Arthur," I cautioned him, knowing that we didn't have this much time.P  
"I said, wall them up!" Arthur shouted. The monk started sobbing as he was grabbed roughly and forced back into that devastating pit.p  
"Don't you see it is the will of God these sinners be sacrificed?" A handful of serfs came to aid the knights, starting to lock the crazy monk away for good. Then, our task complete, we set out, beginning our race against almost certain death.


	9. Behind Enemy Lines Part 1

We fled east, into the mountains, as Tristan and I had suggested. Only fleeing didn't seem to be the right verb. Perhaps crawling was more like it. We were moving at a snail's pace, thanks to the wagons full of villagers. The narrow passes were not suitable for caravan travelling, so each step the horses took was dangerous. The beauty of our surroundings would have been breathtaking, except there was barely a spare moment to breathe, never mind take in the scenery. The only times I permitted myself to take a good look around was when it was my turn to ride up ahead and make sure that the path was still clear. And even then, the glances were more wary and suspicious of the hiding places the trees provided than admiring. As I rode back to tell Arthur we were still fine Lancelot approached him from the rear.

"We're moving too slow," he stated. Thank you, captain obvious! "The girl's not going to make it and neither is the boy. The family we can protect, but we're wasting our time with all these people-"

"We're not leaving them," Arthur cut him off. Lancelot drew in a deep breath, obviously trying to control his infamous temper.

"If the Saxons find us, we'll have to fight," he warned unnecessarily.

"Then save your anger for them," I interjected, throwing a wink at Arthur.

"We cannot leave them Lancelot," Arthur added.

"Is this Rome's quest? Or Arthur's?" Lancelot spat, glaring at our captain before turning his horse sharply and riding back to the rear of the column. I just shook my head at him. Maybe one day he would learn not to be such a jerk under pressure, but I wasn't holding my breath.

Pulling up alongside one of the wagons, I hopped off of Arion's back and up next to the driver. He nodded at me and I crawled through the 'doorway' into the main area. I found Dagonet there, sitting with the boy that he had rescued, holding him half in his lap. Silently, I joined him, sitting down on the other side of the boy, who was hot to the touch; obviously fighting off a fever. I leaned back against the side of the wagon, stroking his hair absentmindedly, and found myself wondering about his parents. How they had died. How he was alone now. I sighed. I had never really wanted children. It would simply take too much time; time that I could obviously not afford to lose in this lifestyle I was living. But now, I was free after this mission. As soon as we got back to the wall, everything would be different. Perhaps a child wouldn't be the worst idea in the world. Settling down, starting a family… It seemed too much like a fairy tale to be true. But it could happen. That is, if I ever found a man that I would be willing to live out the rest of my days with. I looked out the back of the wagon, to where Lancelot was riding behind us. Our eyes met for a moment, and then I immediately looked away, smiling a little. Maybe that dream wasn't so far off after all…

"Arthur," Dagonet greeted as Arthur entered the wagon.

"How is he?" Arthur asked, gesturing towards the boy. Dagonet's smile was grim.

"He burns. Brave boy," he finished fondly. Arthur nodded and moved on to the back of the wagon, where the Woad woman we had found sat huddled in a corner. I didn't really like her. Not sure why. Just a gut feeling that we weren't going to be the best of friends if we lived through this. Maybe I had gotten too used to being the only woman in our company. The only one any of the knights looked at. But now, she was a fresh face, and someone interesting. The tried to hide it, but I could see the rest of my company sneaking looks at her every now and then. Could I be feeling jealousy? I dismissed the thought quickly. I was more than happy with who I was, and no one, especially this Woad girl, could take what I had away from me. I definitely wasn't jealous when Arthur had to realign her dislocated fingers. I knew from experience that it was not a pleasant sensation. When Arthur had finished with her he exited the carriage, and I took that as my signal to do the same. After all, I was needed outside, and the boy seemed to be more than comfortable with Dagonet as his protector. I smiled at the resemblance this scene bore to when Dagonet had adopted me in our earliest days of travelling to Hadrian's Wall as children.

It started snowing almost as soon as I left. Most of the men groaned, but I couldn't suppress my reckless grin. I loved the snow, and couldn't help it. It was beautiful, and made tracking so much easier when you could see your quarry's footprints. Tristan was off scouting, so I rode in silence with Lancelot and Arthur. Arthur kept looking over his shoulder to check on the Woad girl, who was now sitting in the opening in the front of the wagon, wrapped in a blanket. Lancelot noticed Arthur's glances and scoffed in indignation, spurring his horse forward to ride ahead of us. I rolled my eyes at his childish behavior and rode up after him, leaving Arthur free to go talk to the girl.

"Would it kill you to be supportive of him once in a while?" I asked Lancelot as soon as I reached him. He glared at me.

"He's letting his emotions get in the way of the mission," Lancelot argued.

"That's not true and you know it. Can't you just be happy for him? Maybe he's found someone who he can finally care about," I suggested.

"He cares about you," Lancelot spat.

"Oh please, you know that's not what I mean." Lancelot sighed.

"I know, but…"

"And don't pretend that you're any better, Mr. I-need-to-flirt-with-and-hopefully-bed-every-girl-I-lay-my-eyes-on!" I retorted, cutting him off. "And if I remember correctly, there have been times when you _have_ jeopardized a mission for a woman. Or two." Lancelot scowled, recalling that memory that was actually quite funny when we looked at it now.

"I do not bed every woman I lay my eyes on," he fought back. I smirked.

"No, only the ones dumb enough to buy that cocky soldier attitude you throw at them."

"So do you classify yourself as one of those?" He asked sharply. I opened my mouth, and then snapped it back shut when I realized I had nothing I could say to that. I mean, I _did_ sleep with him, even though I knew that he would be seeing others. But, it was beneficial to me too, wasn't it? We both got what we needed. It was purely a business arrangement, nothing more. Lancelot knew that he had one this bought, and had that arrogant look back on his face. I leaned in to wipe it off for him, but stopped short as we entered a clearing. The scene that waited there for us was devastating. The ruins had once been a small village, but all that remained of it now were the smoldering ashes of what had been homes, and the remains of the villagers. No one was left alive. My heart rate sped up involuntarily. I knew that we were crossing behind Saxon lines, but I hadn't been expecting this. Arthur rode up to stand next to Lancelot and me.

"Saxons," he confirmed as I stared at the wreckage angrily. I hated them. They were no better than animals, because that's how they killed. As if they were animals. Arthur turned around to face the main group, and we did the same.

"We'll sleep here," he announced. "Take shelter in those trees," he added, pointing past the village into the forest. "Tristan, Quinn." We nodded in parting, and took off at once to scout out the surrounding areas for any stray enemy. We ran our horses through the snow, but slowed down when it began to rain. The rain could easily freeze and provide treacherous footing for our mounts. I was overly alert, even jumpy. It was unusual for me, and Tristan quickly noticed my behavior.

"Quinn?" he asked tentatively. I practically jumped out of my saddle at the sound of his voice. "Are you all right?" He sounded concerned.

"I'm fine," I replied, but my voice gave me away. Tristan reached across his saddle and gripped my hand.

"Nothing is going to happen," he told me calmly. I nodded nervously. Those same words had been said only ten months ago, and that had turned into a disaster very quickly.

Flashback

Arthur had sent Tristan and me out on a scouting mission in the early hours of the morning, just to make sure that we weren't in any immediate danger. He expected nothing of it, since we were just doing a routine sweep of the territory, like we did every other month. About two hours had passed since then, and not a leaf had been out of place. We took advantage of the unusually nice day to have some fun. After all, everyone else was most likely still asleep, we deserved it. We raced our horses around obstacle courses we made up in the woods, had a couple of aiming 

competitions with our throwing knifes, and when we got really bored, started debating whose animal was better.

"Oh, come on! There is no way that your hawk is better than my wolf!" I exclaimed. Blaez looked up from where he was trotting at my side and smiled his doggy smile as if to confirm my point.

"She gets the job done faster because she can see more from her vantage point," Tristan replied, as if this would settle the whole argument.

"So?" I retorted. "Blaez can do so much more than Nike can." Tristan raised his eyebrows, not believing that. "He can! He can scout out territory, show us which path to take, follow enemy scents, and hunt food for us," I finished proudly.

"And Nike can do that from the air," Tristan pointed out.

"Fine," I replied. "Shall we put that to the test? Let's see who can find the biggest prey and lead us to it," I suggested, knowing that there was no way a hawk could beat Blaez at this. He hunted big game for fun; it was in his survival instincts.

"All right," Tristan agreed, and threw Nike into the air, whistling. I leaned over in my saddle to look at Blaez.

"Go get something big," I told him, flashing the hand signal for hunt. He darted off into the forest and I grinned. Tristan and I kept on our original path, excited now that we were competing again. A few minutes later, a hawk's cry but through the air, and Tristan was the one smiling. He turned his horse in the direction of the cry, and sped up. I urged Arion forward, in front of him as we ran into a clearing, where the sound had been coming from. I only had a moment to realize that there were other people there before they were on me. Then it crossed my mind that Nike's cry could have been a warning, and we had just walked right into it. Then something hit the back of my head and everything went dark.

-3rd Person Point of View-

Tristan came riding back into camp at a gallop. Arthur stood up and ran over to him, knowing immediately that something had gone wrong.

"What happened?" He asked urgently, raising his hands to help Tristan off his horse.

"They knew we were here," he gasped, exhausted. Arthur saw a line of blood running down the side of his face from a cut near his temple and sat him down at once.

"Who knew?" Arthur pressed gently.

"Saxons," Tristan replied breathlessly. "An entire company of them." Arthur's blood ran cold. He hadn't known the Saxons were anywhere near here. They were ruthless and vicious fighters. He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't hear Merrick come up behind him.

"Where's Quinn?" Merrick asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. Tristan would not look up to meet his eyes, so he stormed in front of him and knelt, forcing their gazes to meet. "Where is she?" He repeated, ice lacing his voice. Tristan shook his head.

"They took her," he breathed. Merrick reeled back as if the words were a slap.

"How did this happen?" Arthur demanded.

"They came out of nowhere. We walked right into the middle of them without being any the wiser." Merrick stood up and kicked a rock lying on the ground, sending it flying.

"You're supposed to be watching out for things like this!" He bellowed. Arthur put a quieting hand on Merrick's shoulder.

"This is no one's fault," he said warningly.

"Where did it happen?" Merrick asked, his voice low. Arthur's grip on his shoulder tightened.

"No, Merrick. Going after them would be a death order. An entire company against eight men? Think about this rationally for a minute."

"They have Quinn, and you expect me to sit here and do _nothing!_" He roared.

"We can get reinforcements from the wall," Arthur tried to reason.

"That will take a week, maybe more. She'll be dead by then," Merrick spat.

"She might be already," Arthur said somberly.

"There's a chance," Merrick growled. "That's all I need. If we wait any longer we'll lose the trail. I'm going after her."

"No, you're not. That's an order. We can't risk losing anyone else as well. You will stay here, and we will get reinforcements." Arthur's command was resolute. Merrick snarled wordlessly and shoved Arthur's hand off his shoulder, storming away. Arthur moved to go after him, but then caught himself. Tristan and his horse would both need to be tended to, and then he had to figure out what to do with the new crisis on hand. Merrick would cool down and come to his senses.

Ok, guys, the flashback will continue in the next chapter, it's too long to put all in one!


	10. Behind Enemy Lines Part 2

Still Flashback

Merrick moved quickly once he was out of Arthur's sight, making his way towards the southern side of the camp, where he knew Dagonet would be on guard duty. He found him leaning against a large tree.

"Dagonet," he said hurriedly. "I need your help."

"With what?" Dagonet replied, uninterested.

"Quinn's been taken by Saxons." That brought a response immediately.

"What happened?" He asked, worry lacing his voice.

"She and Tristan were ambushed. She was alive when they took her."

"Are we packing up the camp?"

"No," Merrick replied shortly.

"Why not?" Dagonet rumbled.

"Arthur wants to wait until we get more reinforcements from the wall. They stumbled into a whole company; he thinks a rescue mission will be too dangerous," Merrick explained. Dagonet's eyes widened.

"That's madness. They won't keep her alive nearly that long."

"I know. That's why I'm going after her. I can't sit here and do nothing while her life is in danger," Merrick told him, almost pleadingly.

"I'll come with you," Dagonet assured him without hesitation.

"I was counting on it," Merrick said, grinning, but Dagonet could see the look of relief on his face.

"We need to plan this out carefully. The two of us against an entire company… The odds are impossible…" He trailed off, doubt in his eyes.

"Then it's a good thing I make it three," a voice said from behind them. They spun to face the newcomer, drawing their swords in one fluid, practiced motion.

"Relax," Lancelot said, stepping out from the shadow of the trees. "I'm here to help you." Both men lowered their swords, Merrick a little slower than Dagonet.

"What makes you think you're coming?" Merrick questioned.

"You'll need as many swords as you can get, and I have two," he replied, smirking. "You're going to need me if either of you want to get Quinn out alive." Merrick thought it over. As much as he disliked Lancelot for his cocky arrogance and courtship of Quinn, he knew he made a valid point. Lancelot was an excellent fighter, and the extra man would come in handy if Quinn was hurt or unconscious and needed to be carried out. Besides, he too was attached to Quinn, and would fight hard for her safety.

"Fine," Merrick caved. "But you answer to me, understand?" Lancelot rolled his eyes.

"Yes, captain," he replied sarcastically. "Now can we go before their trail goes cold?"

Twenty minutes later the three men snuck out of the camp, taking a large path around where Arthur and Tristan would still be. They travelled lightly, not bothering with bulky plate armor, and settling for a lighter protective covering of leather. They brought enough weapons and arrows for a decent sized fight, but the plan was to sneak in, grab Quinn and get out without anybody noticing. Once they were clear of the camp Merrick led them back in the direction that Tristan had come from. They picked up his trail and followed it back to where the two of them had been attacked. The signs of a struggle were evident, and they knew Tristan had not been exaggerating the numbers of their foe. At least that made them easier to track. They had left a wide trail, obviously not worried about being followed. _A mistake they will pay greatly for,_ Merrick thought to himself. _I'll make sure of it._

It was close to noon when they found the Saxon camp. Merrick whistled through his teeth. This could be more challenging than he had thought.

"We need to split up," he murmured. "Find out where they're keeping her. Meet back here within a couple hours, no matter what. Stay unseen, and if you find her make no move to do anything. Travel on foot, leave the horses here. Luck be with all of us," he finished. Dagonet nodded.

"Luck," he repeated.

"If luck existed, none of us would be here," Lancelot muttered, causing the other men to grin a little, erasing their troubles for a moment. But then the moment was gone, and the somber, serious mood returned. The three men split up without another word, each of them silently praying for their own success, and the safety of their comrade and friend.

-Quinn's POV, Still Flashback-

Slowly, I regained consciousness, the world blurring in and out in front of my eyes. The first thing I noticed was that I was tied to a tree. The next thing that set in was the pain. Lots of pain. The pain engulfed my entire body, leaving no part of me untouched. An involuntary shudder racked my body, and a gasp escaped my lips. There were a few men sitting around a fire in front of me, and they looked up at my noise. They rumbled some words in their native language, and 

then one rose and started lumbering towards me. I struggled against my bonds, but they held tight. As he came to put me out again, I knew I had started to hallucinate because I could have sworn that I saw Lancelot crouched in the bushes. Which would have been quite embarrassing, since I was fairly sure that I was completely naked. I didn't have time to worry about that, however, because I was backhanded viciously. My head snapped back against the tree, causing a sharp flash of pain before I slipped back into blissful darkness.

-3rd Person POV, Still Flashback-

Merrick stood anxiously next to a tree, eyes scanning the landscape for any sign of his comrades. The sun had moved across the sky so he knew that almost two hours had expired. Suddenly Dagonet materialized a few paces away from him, stepping out from the bushes.

"Any luck?" Merrick whispered urgently. Dagonet shook his head. "Me either," he sighed. "Where the hell is Lancelot?"

"Waiting to make a good entrance," Lancelot retorted from behind them both.

"Knock it off," Merrick growled. "What happened?"

"I found her," Lancelot replied. Merrick took a deep breath.

"Dead?" He asked, dreading the answer.

"Alive," Lancelot stated, and Merrick's heart nearly leapt out of his chest. "No sure for how long, though."

"Is she injured?" Dagonet asked.

"Not badly," he replied. "But once they tire of using her it will probably be easier to dispose of her." Merrick's eyes flashed dangerously.

"Using her?" He questioned, his voice icy. Lancelot met his gaze, and Merrick knew exactly what he meant. "I'll kill them," he raged, only barely remembering to keep his voice low. "I will kill every last one of them." With that his hand flew to the hilt of his sword, and he started moving towards the Saxon camp. Lancelot grabbed his arm and yanked him back roughly.

"Don't be foolish," he whispered harshly. "If you storm in there they'll kill you, and then they'll kill her."

"I have to do something!" Merrick fumed. Lancelot grabbed his shoulders and shoved him against a tree, pinning him between it and his body.

"Don't assume that you are the only one who cares about Quinn," he barked. "Now, we have to do this sensibly and discreetly, or else we're all dead."

"He's right," Dagonet put in. "You know better than that, Merrick." Merrick's shoulders sagged in defeat and Lancelot let him go, moving a few steps away to give him his space.

"We need a plan," he said softly, as if thinking out loud. "Lancelot, can you show me where she is?" Lancelot grinned.

"Well, since you asked so nicely," he retorted, and then spun on his heels and plunged into the trees again, Dagonet and Merrick following him quietly.

Lancelot led them in a wide loop around the camp, and then brought them back closer once they reached the outskirts. The men crouched down and inched ever closer, wary of the unsuspecting sentries who would give them away. Finally, Lancelot motioned them to halt. Merrick took the lead and crept up so he could peer through the bushes. He saw a group of Saxons sitting around a small fire drinking ale, and then let his gaze wander back towards the main camp. That's when he saw her, and his breath stuck in his throat. She was tied to the trunk of a large tree, hands high over her head and feet spread apart. Half of her face was covered in a thin sheet of blood from a cut high on her forehead. As he scanned the rest of her body it seemed like they had left no part of her untouched; there were bruises, cuts and scrapes everywhere. Obviously they had been taking no precautions when bringing her back here and 'using' her. It didn't look like her life was in danger, but it would be impossible to tell if she had internal injuries. Merrick felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to find Dagonet staring at him with a concerned look. It was then that he noticed that he was shaking with rage. He took a deep breath, trying to calm down and look at the situation rationally. Obviously they could not be seen. That was essential. Killing these men here was an option, but it would raise suspicions quickly since there were so many of them. Sadly, that was the only solution that presently came to mind. That was, until one of the men sitting around the fire rose to his feet and started stumbling towards where Merrick, Dagonet and Lancelot were hiding in the forest so he could empty his bladder. Merrick backed up quietly, motioning to the men behind him to do the same before they were seen. As soon as the Saxon was out of the immediate line of the other Merrick drew his dagger, rushed the man from behind and slit his throat in one fluid, practiced motion. There was a slight gurgling noise and then his body went limp and fell backwards into Merrick's waiting arms. He quickly began stripping him before the blood set in and stained his attire.

"With that red hair you'll never pass as him," Lancelot pointed out. Merrick glared at him, and then realized that he was right. He was nowhere near the size of him either. They would need someone much sturdier… Merrick's eyes moved involuntarily to Dagonet's stoic form, and a slow, reckless smile spread across his face.

Minutes later, a tall, bulky Saxon strode back into the camp in an alarmed manner, claiming that there was a large fight occurring on the other side of camp. All of the men sitting around the fire leapt up and ran in that direction, not wanting to miss out on any bloodshed.

-Quinn's POV, Still Flashback!-

I didn't want to wake up, but with all of the racket going on around me it was hard to stay asleep. My eyes opened against my will, and I saw all of the Saxons rush by me, for once not stopping to place a blow. I started to relax, but then a dark shape moved out of the trees and started towards me at a slow, calculated pace. _Shit_, I thought, closing my eyes again. _I spoke too soon._

"Jesus, Quinn," an extremely familiar voice breathed. My eyes flew open before my mind could even comprehend what was going on. They met a pair of ice grey ones.

"Merrick!" What was meant to be an exclamation left my lips as a sob. Merrick cut the rope holding me up with one hand, while wrapping the other arm around my waist to support my weight as he freed my legs.

"Shh," he comforted me gently. "I'm here now, it's all right." All I could do was bury my head into his chest and sob into his shirt as he gently lowered me to the ground in a sitting position.

"Wh- what are you doing here?" I managed to ask. He grinned.

"Rescuing you, of course," he stated casually.

"How?" I asked.

"Well Tristan came back and reported what happened, so we picked up their trail and came after you."

"Everyone's here then?" I assumed. He grimaced.

"Not exactly. Dagonet is providing us with a distraction, and Lancelot is watching out for any stragglers." I raised my eyebrows.

"You brought Lancelot with you?" I asked incredulously.

"He volunteered, and I wasn't in a position to turn him down. He's actually the one who found you," Merrick informed me. Uh oh. I felt the blood rush to my face as I realized that Lancelot had seen me naked. Actually, come to think of it, I was still naked. Merrick seemed to remember this at about the same time as I did. He immediately looked away, blushing, and pulled his tunic over his head and off his body, holding it out to me. I took it and tried to put it on, but my arms were numb and wouldn't go over my head. Not to mention the lance of fire that shot through my right wrist, making me gasp out loud. Yup, that was broken. Merrick's head whipped around instinctively at my pain and he helped me pull my arms through the sleeves, and then started rubbing the feeling back into my good arm briskly. It hurt, a lot at first, as the blood rushed back into those unused parts, but after a minute or two it subsided into a dull ache. Merrick moved onto my legs as I hurriedly stretched out my upper body.

"How long have you been tied up?" Merrick questioned. I shrugged.

"I have no idea," I answered truthfully. "It's been easier to just stay unconscious," I explained. Merrick's eyes flashed dangerously, and I put a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey," I said, causing him to meet my eyes. "I'm ok. You're here, and now we can go home. Just get me out of here, Merrick, and everything will be all right."

"I should have been able to do something. We promised to protect each other, and I let you down."

"Merrick stop it. There's no way you can possibly blame yourself for this one," I joked lightly, trying to get him to smile. It didn't work. Instead, he stopped rubbing my calves and sat down hard on his butt.

"Don't do this to me again, ok Quinn?" He asked, his voice low and shaky. "You don't know what it was like for me, when Tristan came back without you. When I didn't know if you were alive or dead. I got… very angry," he sighed after a long pause. "When Arthur told me not to come after you until we got reinforcements cam… I almost lost it." I reached out to take his hand.

"Merrick," I began in a low, soothing tone, but he jerked away from my touch, standing up suddenly and backing up a few paces.

"You don't understand, Quinn. I almost attacked Arthur. Arthur, Quinn!" He shouted, his entire body shaking visibly. I wanted to get up and run over to him, hug him tightly and tell him that everything would be fine, but my body could barely keep me sitting upright, never mind standing, so we lapsed into an awkward silence. Somewhere in the distance a hawk called out in two short blasts. It sounded very familiar, like the old signals we had used in our old missions. Merrick's head snapped up, suddenly intently focused again. The noise repeated urgently, and his eyes widened.

"Shit," he swore silently, coming back over towards me. "We need to get out of here," he whispered.

"Well, duh, I kind of had that part figured out," I joked.

"No, we need to get out now," he repeated, and I saw a flash of real fear in his eyes. That frightened me more than anything else could have. Merrick was never scared.

"I can't move," I whispered hoarsely. Merrick didn't say anything else, but rather bent down and picked me up, the action barely taking him any effort at all. He started walking towards the woods, being careful not to jostle me too much. We were about halfway across the clearing, so close to the woods, when a Saxon stepped around the tree that I had been tied to, letting out a surprised gasp when he found me missing. Then he saw us. Merrick froze, looking the Saxon in the eyes. Then he began to move backwards very slowly, inching towards the forest.

"Quinn, you need to trust me," he whispered, lips not moving at all. I nodded once, my heart pounding a million miles a minute. Merrick drew a deep breath, and then sprinted towards the forest, long legs flying. He took about ten steps before he suddenly stumbled, and we both came crashing to the ground. He acted instinctively in the split second before we hit, wrapping his body around mine, sheltering me from the hard ground as he turned the fall into a roll, bringing is tumbling into the woods. As soon as we stopped moving Merrick rolled away from me, going back towards the clearing. I didn't know why until I saw the Saxon charging at us. Merrick waited until he was nearly on top of him, then stepped to the side and grabbed the man's sword arm as he tried to skewer him, twisting it behind his back until the weapon fell out of his fingers. Then he bent down, picked up the sword and drove it into the Saxon's gut. The man gurgled a little and then fell to the ground. Merrick ripped the sword free, and then fell to his knees, panting, one hand clutching his left thigh. There was a small knife buried to the hilt in the meat of his muscle. That explained why we had fallen. He grasped the hilt, grimacing in discomfort, and then ripped it free. Somehow he held his cry in mostly, but a strangled gasp escaped his lips. Sadly, it was enough to give away our location to the five Saxon warriors who had entered the clearing and were looking for their comrade. They began stalking towards where we were hidden in the growth.

"Quinn," Merrick breathed, not looking anywhere near me. "I want you to crawl into the forest as fast as you can for as long as you can. They haven't seen you yet, they don't know where you are."

"Merrick, I'm not leaving you," I whispered.

"I'll be right behind you, Quinn" he reassured me quietly. "I just have to take care of this and then I'll follow you back."

"But you're hurt. There's too many for you to take on alone," I protested. He grimaced.

"It's fine. The wound isn't too bad. And besides, these Saxons aren't good fighters. This will be easy." His voice was too flat, and free of any emotion.

"You're lying," I whispered. Merrick turned his head and met my eyes.

"Goodbye, Quinn." Then he turned around and strode into the clearing, sword held in a loose ready position by his side. He met the first Saxon warrior a moment later. His sword blurred, countering blows and occasionally dealing its own. He made a good strike and the Saxon fell, blood spurting from his chest. Then all four of the remaining men closed in on him at once. I lost him in a whirl of bodies.

"No!" I shouted, trying to move towards him, to help him somehow. I managed to struggle to my knees, lurching towards the clearing.

"No, Merrick-" my cry was cut off by a hand covering my mouth and pulling me back gently.

"Shh," Lancelot whispered in my ear as he held me against his body. "Come on," he urged me, and began pulling me away from the battle. I struggled against him as hard as I could, trying to yell through his hand to distract at least some of the Saxons. I couldn't. I could just watch and cry as I was dragged away from my best friend, who had given everything to save me.


	11. Behind Enemy Lines Part 3

-REAL TIME – NOT A FLASHBACK-

"Quinn?" Someone was shaking my shoulder gently and I snapped back into reality. Tristan was looking at me with concern in his eyes. "Are you all right?" He asked. I quickly wiped away the tears on my cheeks and nodded. Tristan didn't look convinced.

"This is getting worse, Quinn. Maybe you should go back," he started. I shook my head vehemently.

"No, I'm fine. Let's just do this."

"I think I'm going to spend the night out here, scouting things out," Tristan decided. I looked at him questioningly. "You should go back and tell Arthur so he doesn't worry," he added quickly. I raised my eyebrows.

"You're just doing this to make me leave, aren't you?" I demanded.

"Yes," he answered truthfully. "It just isn't safe for you to be out here in this condition," he reasoned. "And anyways, if you don't go, I'll just gallop away and leave you here." I sighed. I wasn't winning this battle.

"Fine. But be careful out here," I warned him. He snorted in indignation and turned his horse around, taking off into the forest. I glanced after him once, and then nudged Arion back towards where we were camping tonight. It didn't take long to get back, and I found Arthur immediately.

"Tristan is camping out tonight," I informed him dutifully. He looked at me questioningly. "He didn't think that I should remain with him." Realization dawned in his eyes.

"Quinn, if you ever need anyone to talk to, you can always come to me," he offered, and I smiled at his kindness.

"Thank you, but I'm really fine. It's just been… difficult." He nodded.

"That's understandable. Now go get some rest," he ordered, and I went off to find a place to sleep. As I walked around camp I saw Lancelot sitting with his back against a large tree. He was gazing intently at something as I approached, and I followed his line of vision to see…

Guinevere. The Woad girl. Being sponge bathed by Fulcinia, Marius's wife. Oh, that did it. I stormed over to him, cuffing him across the head sharply.

"Ow!" He yelped, startled. Guinevere looked up at the sound to see the both of us looking in, and she smiled slyly. Little bitch had probably been planning this. "What was that for?" Lancelot complained.

"Show some restraint!" I chided him. "We all know that you want to get with her, but honestly, do you have to be this obvious about it?"

"I do not want to-"

"Of course you do," I snapped, cutting him off. "You always want to." The conversation I had had with Dagonet back at Hadrian's Wall flooded back into my mind. I fell silently immediately and plopped down on my butt next to him. Was I actually starting to care about what Lancelot did with other women? What did that mean? Lancelot seemed to notice that he had done something wrong.

"Quinn," he began. "It's nothing."

"What do you want from us?" I asked quietly. "What are we? Am I just a good fuck like everyone else, or do I actually mean something? I need to know." Lancelot opened his mouth to reply, but before he could Guinevere appeared in front of us, wearing only a thin sheet wrapped around your body.

"What is it like? Your home?" She questioned. I glared at her. So she wanted to try flirting. Fine. Two could play this game.

"We sacrificed goats, drank their blood," Lancelot joked.

"And danced naked around fires!" I piped up. "Don't leave the best part out," I teased him. He laughed, and to my dismay, so did she. What she didn't do was leave.

"What I do remember," Lancelot continued more seriously, "Oceans of grass, further than you can ride. The sky, bigger than you can imagine. No boundaries." My anger evaporated for a moment. I had never heard Lancelot speak that way. It was beautiful, and completely accurate. I could see the rolling hills clearly in my mind.

"Some would call that freedom," Guinevere pointed out. "That's what we fight for. Our lands, our people." Lancelot and I both looked away at the same time, annoyed. We really didn't care to be compared to the Woads. _We_ didn't attack _them_ without reason.

"So you see, Lancelot, we're very much alike, you and I." I couldn't hold in the sharp bark of laughter. Other than the fact that they were both showing interest in each other, they really couldn't be further apart. Guinevere glared at me.

"And when you return home, will you take a wife? Have sons?" She asked him, throwing a pointed look at me. Lancelot looked up at her first, and then turned his head slightly to meet my gaze.

"I've killed too many sons. What right do I have to my own? To happiness?" He asked, answering all of my questions at once.

"No family. No religion. Do you believe in anything at all?" Guinevere asked, trying to regain his attention. The look he gave me told me that there was at least one thing he did believe in. Then he ripped his eyes away from mine.

"I would have left you and the boy there to die," he told her brutally. Her eyes widened in indignation, and she stomped off. Lancelot looked at me again, and then got up and left without a word. My breathing accelerated as I pondered over what this could mean for us, but it was something I would have to deal with later. Now, I had to concentrate on fulfilling this mission so we could gain our freedom and see what would come of it. I searched for Dagonet and found him tucking the boy Lucan into bed beneath a wagon. I walked over to them and lay down next to where Dagonet sat. I fought sleep for a while, knowing that the nightmares would be even more vivid at night than in my daydreams, but everything that had happened during the day caught up with me, and I couldn't resist as my eyes closed and I drifted off into a restless slumber.

-Continued Flashback-

Sometime as Lancelot dragged me away my body gave up on me, and my struggling began to die down. I felt myself begin to go limp, and then exhaustion claimed me.

When I woke up Dagonet was sitting next to me protectively.

"What happened?" I asked, my voice coming out as a croak as I tried to raise myself up into a sitting position. He put a hand on my shoulder and pushed me back down gently.

"Shh, don't try to move yet. We're not sure how badly you're injured." I tested out various body parts, tensing and releasing different muscles. Other than my broken wrist, which had been set and put in a rough splint, nothing seemed to be injured too badly. Just bruises, cuts, and soreness. I was finishing up my assessment when Lancelot entered my sight. His eyes widened in relief when he saw me awake, and that's when I realized what was wrong.

"Where's Merrick?" I whispered. Dagonet's eyes clouded, and then flicked to Lancelot.

"You really should try to get some more rest," Dagonet tried avoiding the topic. That could only mean one thing. My eyes filled with tears.

"Dagonet," my voice was shaky and uneven. "Where is he."

"He's gone, Quinn," Lancelot said gently. I couldn't stop the tears from brimming over and spilling down my face.

"How?" I asked, trying to hold back the breakdown. "Was it quick?" I prayed it was. He deserved that much. Lancelot glanced at Dagonet, who shook his head slightly. Lancelot ignored him.

"We don't know," he began cautiously.

"What do you mean, you don't know?" My voice came out harsher than I'd expected. Then a wave of realization washed over me. "You didn't go back for him."

"Quinn, I had to get you out of there-"

"I'm out. Why aren't you back there?" I cut him off.

"Quinn," Dagonet interjected quietly. "You know that they'd never keep him alive."

"They said that about me too, and I'm still here!" I shouted, thrusting myself into a sitting position. Tears fell as I lowered my voice. "He came for me. He saved me. I can't leave him there."

"Merrick knew the risks when he did this. You're in no condition for any fighting, and we're not leaving you here alone. We need to do what Arthur suggested. We will go back to our own camp and wait until reinforcements come. Then we'll take their army by storm and wipe them out," Lancelot said, his voice flat and unemotional. I sobbed, turning to Dagonet for support.

"Dag," I pleaded. "Please. It's Merrick." He looked down, ashamed.

"I'm sorry, Quinn. It's too big a risk." I looked back and forth between them, stunned.

"You're just going to leave him after everything we've been through together. You're just going to let them kill him."

"He's already dead, Quinn. I'm sorry. There's nothing we can do." Lancelot said curtly, leaving no room for compromise. I glared at him in disgust before laying back down and turning away from them before they could see they fresh wave of tears spring into my eyes.

"Well done," Dagonet growled lowly, assuming that I was no longer listening.

"She had to find out sometime. Better now than when she's healthy and runs off herself to try and find him," Lancelot hissed in return. My breath caught in my throat as I began testing my limbs again. Everything was working correctly, and I could work through whatever pain I felt. I could go after him myself. It was almost dark now; if I snuck in I wouldn't even need to fight anyone. The plan formulated in my head almost instantaneously. Lancelot and Dagonet would have erased most of our trail, but they had been in a hurry; I was almost positive I could find enough mistakes to follow it back. The hard part would be getting away from the two of them. I pretended to roll over in my sleep, so I could take a look around and see where they were. 

Lancelot was far away from me, sitting with his back against a tree, looking in the complete opposite direction, acting as a look-out. Dagonet was closer, but he was concentrating on lighting a small fire and skinning a rabbit that would serve as dinner. And his back was to me. Perfect. I rolled back over, letting the momentum carry me past where I had been lying, and further away from the two men. Neither of them so much as glanced in my direction. I used my elbows to drag myself forward a few inches, staying on the ground so I could feign sleep if I was caught.

It took a long time, but I made it. Dagonet had glanced back at me a few times, but it had been early on in the process so my movement was not as noticeable. As soon as I was out of sight I raised myself up to my knees, and then, using a tree for support, all the way into a standing position. My legs protested, but I ignored their opinion. I stumbled along for a bit, having to use trees for support, but eventually was able to move on my own, if at a slower pace than normal. I was right in my assumption that Dagonet and Lancelot had left markers of our travel behind; it was all too easy to follow the trail of snapped twigs, broken shrubbery, and sometimes even a footprint or two. The trip to the Saxon camp took much less time than I'd expected. It was only about a mile away, down a small hill from where our makeshift camp was. Obviously hiding in plain sight had been the plan.

I tip-toed towards the edge of the camp, keeping out of sight in the deepening shadows, looking for Merrick. I started on the opposite side of the camp than where I had been held captive, thinking that they would probably have smartened up a bit and moved their hiding spot, but I found nothing. It was only when I made my way back to the tree I had been tied to that I saw him. Only he wasn't tied to the tree like I had been. His body was crumpled in a pile at the base, beaten almost beyond recognition. I might not have known him if not for his blazing red hair. I looked around nervously, not knowing how to approach the situation now. There weren't any Saxons around; they knew that there was no need to guard him; but I couldn't just prance in there without any way to defend myself. When something cold pressed against my arm I nearly screamed, it startled me so much. I turned, expecting the worst, and had to bite back a laugh at what I saw. Blaez, crouching behind me, his doggy grin stretched across his muzzle. I cuffed him on the head lightly.

"What are you doing, sneaking up on me like that?" I reprimanded. He just wagged his tail. I turned back to the clearing. "We need a plan," I informed him, as if it would help the situation. He cocked his head to the side, and then got up and trotted off into the woods. I stared after him, somewhat shocked. "A lot of help you are," I muttered under my breath as my mind flew through every possibility of how to do this. I had seen no women while I was there, so pretending I was one of them would have been useless, even if I had been dressed properly and not just wearing Merrick's oversized shirt. I was still thinking about this particular option when I heard leaves rustle behind me. And there was Blaez, dragging along a sheathed sword. My jaw dropped open, and stayed there. He lay the weapon down at my feet and looked up at me expectantly. I patted his head, awestruck, and he let his tongue roll out of his mouth, satisfied.

"Good boy," I acknowledged once I found my voice again. I picked up the weapon in my good hand, getting the feel for it, and then took in a deep breath. It was now or never. Staying in my crouch I crept into the clearing, ignoring the screaming protests of my muscles. My heart dropped as I drew nearer to Merrick. He made what had been done to me look like a luxury treatment. There was no way he could possibly be alive-

Then he moved. It wasn't much, more of a shudder than anything else, but god, it was something. I forgot everything else and ran to him, dropping to the ground by his side.

"Merrick?" I asked, gently tapping a small patch of unmarred flesh on his shoulder. "Merrick, can you hear me?" There was no response, so I asked again, pushing a little harder. He came back into consciousness with a groan.

"Quinn?" His voice was disbelieving. I nodded, and his eyes sprang into focus immediately. "What are you doing here? You shouldn't be moving yet, you have to get out of here!" He tried to push me away, but I wouldn't let him.

"No, Merrick, I'm not leaving without you," I protested stubbornly. He sighed in frustration.

"God, Quinn, they'll catch you! You need to leave now!"

"Fine. But I'm taking you with me," I told him firmly, starting to hoist him up and support him on my shoulder.

"You're in no state to carry yourself around, never mind me!" Merrick argued as I nearly dropped him. I gritted my teeth against the pain that was everywhere.

"Well, maybe if you'd help me a little!" With that I thrust up with all my strength, bringing the both of us to our feet. Merrick sucked in huge, pained gasps of air, and I wasn't in a much better state.

"Ribs," he gasped. I looked at him questioningly. "Broken," he clarified, and I immediately loosened my grip around his waist.

"Sorry," I whispered. He nodded tersely. I looked his body up and down, noticing the worst of his injuries. Broken ribs were obvious, as well as a very broken right ankle. It looked like they had hammered it over and over again, shattering the bone in a few places. I took more of his weight onto my shoulder so he wouldn't have to put any pressure on it, and then looked him in the eyes. "You're going to have to help me as best you can," I said apologetically. He set his face into a firm grimace and nodded again. I took a practice step, to get the balance of our weights right. Merrick hissed in pain as we moved, but there was nothing I could do about that. At least we were moving.

The pace was devastatingly slow, and each step was a brand new challenge. Merrick got paler each time we moved, and he looked like he would pass out soon. That would be bad. Very bad. 

I could barely support him when he hobbled along on one foot, there was no way I could drag his entire weight back. Blaez stayed at our side, giving us encouraging nudges when we thought that we couldn't move anymore. After what seemed like an eternity Merrick's good leg gave out on him mid-stride. He fell to the side, and the unexpected weight shift brought me down as well, crashing into the bushes. We lay there for a while, panting, trying to get oxygen to our aching limbs. It wasn't working too well. My head was swimming from the exertion I had been putting out, and I felt myself drifting in and out of consciousness. Then Blaez started growling, a low deep sound that grew in his throat and raised his hackles. I lay absolutely still, listening to the sounds around us. There they were. Footsteps, approaching quickly. I knew that Dagonet and Lancelot could not have possibly found me this quickly. There was only one other possibility. I looked up and through the brush to see three Saxon men, all armed, heading straight towards us. I looked down at Merrick, who was trying, and failing, to not let the pain show.

"Be right back," I said flippantly, throwing a cocky attitude that I really wasn't feeling. But maybe if I could convince him that I could win this fight I could convince myself.

I got up to my feet slowly, holding the stolen sword in a ready position. The first man rushed at me and I blocked his strike one-handed, the force of the blow jarring my entire arm. He was moving again before I could react, bringing his sword around to nick my other shoulder, the one with the broken wrist. My eyes lit up with fury, and I thrust my sword at him, forcing him to go to defense. A few moments later it was over, when he took my bait, scratching my thigh while I drove my sword through his chest for the kill. I turned just in time to catch the second man's blow that was aimed at my head. He threw a kick at my stomach which caused me to step back to where the remaining warrior was waiting, sword held high above his head, poised to strike when I was defenseless. There was a blur of grey and white, and that man went down with Blaez on top of him, the velocity of my wolf's jump providing enough momentum to topple the much larger man. I finished off the second man, slicing his throat neatly while Blaez ripped at the jugular of the third man, leaving him on the ground to bleed out.

I turned back to Merrick, grinning. I had done it, against all odds. He grinned back, but the look froze on his face.

Everything happened in slow motion.

I could hear Blaez let out a sharp bark.

My turn took ages as I looked over my shoulder to see the fourth Saxon warrior, who had come late, raise a crossbow and level it at my chest.

I saw his finger press down on the trigger, and I waited for the impact.

But it came from a different direction than I had expected.

Something hit my side, knocking me to the ground, out of harm's way.

A split second later there was the whiz of an arrow.

The thud of impact.

And the muffled 'oomph' as breath left a body in a rush.

Then Merrick crashed to the ground next to me, the arrow embedded in his abdomen.

I stopped breathing.

I didn't register Blaez taking the man down.

All I saw was Merrick.

"No!" It took me a moment to realize that that sound had come from me. I crawled to Merrick's side as quickly as I could. His breath came in short, rapid gasps. "No, no, no," I repeated over and over, and my hands moved automatically to remove the arrow. Merrick's hands caught mine, his grip strong despite everything.

"Leave it," he gurgled. I took my hands away immediately, not wanting to upset him. Blaez ran back over to us, his teeth stained red.

"Help," I told him, looking him in the eyes. "Go get help. Lancelot and Dagonet." His ears pricked up at the common names, and I knew he could understand what I wanted. He took off like a dart into the forest, little more than a gray blur among the trees. I looked down at Merrick, whose eyes were closing. I grabbed him roughly by the shoulders, making sure he stayed awake.

"No," I sobbed, letting the tears come. "No, Merrick, you've got to stay with me. Please, please don't die." He met my eyes and I saw resolution there. He was not going down without a fight.

"I'll try." That was all he could manage to say before he had to continue his struggle to breathe.

I pulled Merrick onto my lap and held him there as he drew shallow, labored breaths, clinging so desperately to life. I clung to him just as hard; anchoring him to this world, refusing to let go. I lied over and over again, whispering to him that it would be all right; that everything was going to be fine. I felt every pained shudder of his body as if it were my own. I don't know how long we stayed that way. It could have been minutes, or hours, but it felt like a lifetime. I lost track of everything around me; all that mattered was each new breath that Merrick drew. I floated in between life and death with him. I couldn't feel my broken wrist screaming in protest as I ripped off the sleeves of the tunic I was wearing and put them around the arrow, applying pressure to the wound. I didn't care that my blood was flowing out of my shoulder and thigh; flowing down to join the growing pool of red beneath us. I couldn't comprehend that my body was going numb with cold as the temperature dropped in the night. None of that mattered. He was fighting for me, so I was fighting for him.

When I felt a hand touch my shoulder I jumped, startled. I kept my hold on Merrick with one hand while the other automatically found the hilt of the sword and raised it to the throat of our attacker before I even turned around.

"Quinn," a familiar voice said. "Quinn, it's all right." I turned slowly to find Dagonet crouched beside me. There was fear in his eyes.

"Help," I whispered, my voice hoarse. "Please help him." Dagonet's eyes filled with sorrow and remorse.

"Oh, Quinn," he breathed, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me close to his chest. I sobbed into him, my body heaving.

"We have to help him!" I pleaded. Lancelot came up on the other side of us.

"Shit," he swore softly when he saw us. "We need to get out of here. There's still danger."

"No." My voice came out harsh and strong, surprising even myself. "If we move him he'll die," I continued desperately.

"Quinn, there's nothing else we can do," Dagonet explained softly.

"I can't let him die!" I cried, tears streaming down my face. "I won't." I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself.

"It's my fault," I whispered. "He was trying to save me again. He pushed me out of the way. That should be me lying there. Not him."

"No," a weak voice cut me off. I looked down in surprise to see Merrick's eyes fluttering open. "Don't ever think that Quinn." He reprimanded. "I knew what I was doing, and I would do it again if the situation arose-" he broke off, struggling for air.

"Shh, shh, don't try to talk," I soother. "You have to save your strength. He shook his head a fraction of an inch.

"No time," he gasped, right before his body jerked in a ripple of pain. He drew in as deep of a breath as he could manage and looked at Dagonet and Lancelot.

"Promise me. Promise me that you'll look after her," he said, eyes blazing.

"Merrick, no, you're going to be-" I began, terrified of where this was going, but Dagonet cut me off.

"I'll protect her with my life," he vowed, grasping Merrick's hand tightly.

"Lancelot?" Merrick demanded. Lancelot nodded.

"Of course. We'll keep her safe for you." Lancelot's eyes actually held sincere sadness. "Rest well, brother," he whispered before backing off a ways, and motioning for Dagonet to follow. Dagonet gave Merrick's hand one last squeeze before retreating with Lancelot. They were giving me space, I realized. Space to say goodbye to Merrick in private. Blaez lay down at Merrick's side, a low whimper building in his throat.

"Don't leave me," I begged. "Ten months, Merrick. We're so close. Don't quit on me now."

"I'm sorry, Quinn. It's time."

"No!" I cried, and the tears came rushing out again. "Merrick, I need you. You're my best friend. And I love you." The words I had never said before came out in a rush before I even knew I had to say them.

"I know. And I've always loved you. Since the very first day we met I knew we were right for each other. So you have to do something for me." I nodded, unable to speak. "You have to keep living, Quinn. Live for both of us. Move on."

"I don't think I can," I whispered.

"I know you can," he corrected me. "Because you're strong. And I'm not the only one who loves you. They do," he jerked his head towards Lancelot and Dagonet. "And so does everyone else." His breathing had become erratic now, coming and going in shallow gasps. He reached up to wipe my tears away, and his hand lingered on my face. I caught it and held it there as I leaned over to whisper in his ear.

"Know that I love you, Merrick. And wherever you go, whatever you see, I will always be with you," I said, brushing a kiss against his forehead. A smile washed over his face, and in that moment all the pain and suffering left his features and he was serene and calm. His breath left his body, and I waited for it to rise again. But it never did.

The agony that ripped through me was worse than any sword; cruel and unforgiving. I collapsed completely to the ground, sobbing hysterically, still holding onto the body of the man that I loved, wishing I could go with him, as a wolf howled mournfully into the night.

I don't remember much of what happened in the next few days. I know that I cried myself to exhaustion and drifted into unconsciousness. I've been told that Lancelot carried me out of there and back to our makeshift camp before helping Dagonet move Merrick's body. What I do remember is waking up that same night with an insane need burning through my veins. Lancelot and Dagonet must have been suspecting it would happen, because they were completely ready when I woke. And they followed me wordlessly as I tracked down the people who had done this. They stood on either side of me as my guard as I cut down every Saxon I could find, making them pay for the pain that they had caused me. But now I felt no pain. I re-broke my wrist several times handling my sword, but I barely noticed. Two of my ribs were cracked when a war hammer snuck past Lancelot's defense and glanced off my chest, but it didn't matter because I took the life of its wielder. As the sun rose in a red sky the three os us stood alone in a forest, amidst the bodies of an entire company of Saxons. The red glow washed over me, relieving me of my unquenchable thirst for revenge, but leaving my alone to deal with the grief and the pain.


	12. Ice Battle

-PRESENT TIME-

"No!!" A cry jerked me out of my slumber, followed by the clash sound of someone being hit. It took a moment to realize that this was not that forest I had been dreaming about; it had not been my voice that had called out. I sat up quickly, drawing a knife, to see Dagonet fighting five or six of Marius's men, unarmed. I leapt to my feet and ran to help him, slashing one man across the back as Dagonet ducked under his blow, aiming to injure, not kill. At least not yet. Dagonet finally got a chance to draw his knife and we faced the men together, daring them to come towards us.

"I have the boy!" Marius's obnoxious voice rang through the clearing, and sure enough, when I looked over I saw him holding a dagger to poor Lucan's throat. We backed up a step warily, but kept our weapons raised, not sure what to do. I looked around wildly for an option, and noticed that we had a growing audience, including Alecto and Fulcinia, Marius's family, both staring at him with a shocked look on their faces.

"Kill them!" Marius ordered his men. Fulcinia rushed to her husband's side, trying to pry his arms off of Lucan.

"Let him go!" She protested, but he swatted her away, barely noticing her.

"Kill them now!" He repeated. There was a whiz of an air, and then an arrow embedded itself in Marius's chest, just next to Lucan's head. I turned around, expecting to find Galahad or Gawain, but instead, Guinevere strolled into the clearing, holding a longbow, nocking another arrow to the string. Marius fell backwards, a shocked expression on his face as he died. As soon as he was free of danger, Lucan sprinted to Dagonet, who gathered him in his arms comfortingly. The soldiers looked around nervously, as if they were about to attack, but Guinevere's drawn bow held them at bay.

"Get down," Dagonet told Lucan, placing him under the wagon before drawing his huge sword and spinning to face the guards with me. Arthur and Lancelot strode into the clearing then, surveying the scene.

"Your hand seems to be better," Lancelot commented as he walked by Guinevere, both swords crossed behind his neck, and she smirked at him, not relaxing her position. He came to stand near me, still in the same calm, cocky stance.

"Great timing," I hissed sarcastically and he winked at me.

"I can't steal the show all the time," he pointed out and I rolled my eyes. A moment later Galahad and Gawain approached on their horses, followed by Bors.

"ARTORIUS!!" He roared as he pounded past us, bringing his mount to a screeching stop right a hair before he crashed into the guards. "Do we have a problem?" He asked, nudging his horse forwards, causing them to back away nervously. Arthur approached them, Excalibur drawn.

"You have a choice," he told them rationally. "You help. Or you die." The guards looked at each other nervously, and then the leader hastily dropped his weapon.

"Put down your weapons," he instructed his men. "Do it now!" He screamed when they hesitated.

"Yeah!" Dagonet growled menacingly, and that did it for them. Jols scurried forward to collect the weapons, and Tristan made his entrance on horseback.

"How many did you kill?" Bors asked.

"Four," Tristan replied flatly.

"Not a bad start to the day!" Bors said, laughing. Tristan rode straight to Arthur, dropping a crossbow at his feet.

"Armor piercing," he informed us. "They're close. We have no time," he added. Arthur nodded, and started giving the orders necessary to pack up the camp. Tristan looked around, seeing Marius's body for the first time.

"What did I miss?" He asked, surprised, and I grinned.

"Oh, nothing much. Just the usual morning scuffle. You know, everyday routines and the like." Everyone laughed, and then got to work so we could leave quickly.

The camp was packed within half an hour, and we started our slow progress again. I rode next to Dagonet, who rode next to the wagon that Lucan was sitting in, keeping watch over him still. After a while he looked at me.

"You were restless last night," he commented. I sighed.

"Yes. The dreams were not pleasant," I informed him. He didn't say anything, just nodded encouragingly and listened, like a good friend. "It keeps getting worse," I said, lowering my voice so no one else could hear. "Every time. I see it over and over again like it was yesterday; see all the things that I did wrong; all the ways I could have saved him." Dagonet shook his head.

"Quinn, you did everything possible. If there is anyone to blame it is Lancelot and myself. We were the ones who refused to go back and search for him; we let you slip away and do it yourself." I shook my head.

"No. That's the problem. I shouldn't have gone by myself. You told me to go wait for reinforcements. If I had, we would have been able to save him."

"Quinn, you were following your heart. No one can blame you for that. You tried your best to help Merrick, just as we did our best to save you when you needed it. It worked with you. Merrick just wasn't that lucky." Dagonet finished quietly. I stared off into the distance wordlessly. I had been lucky, but Merrick hadn't been. I knew it was the truth, that everything we did came down to luck, but I couldn't shake my feelings of guilt.

"He didn't want this for you," Dagonet broke the silence. "He would have wanted you to be happy, not suffering because of his death."

"I know," I whispered. "He told me so right before he died." Dagonet looked at me questioningly.

"Then why do you torment yourself like this?"

"Because I'm afraid that I'll forget him," I breathed. Dagonet wasn't expecting this answer. "Everything else about him is getting harder to remember; like it's blurry around the edges. And seeing this is better than not seeing him at all, isn't it?" I asked, looking at him with tearing eyes.

"Oh, Quinn," Dagonet sighed, reaching to grasp my hand. Just then Arthur rode past us, eyes blank and confused. I had never seen him like this. And we had been through some rough times together. I pushed aside my own worries and rode up to catch him, calling his name.

"Arthur!" He turned around slowly, dazed. "Arthur, what's wrong?" I asked when I was alongside him.

"Pelagius." He said hoarsely. I recognized the name as his mentor and father figure in Rome. "He's dead." My breath caught in my throat.

"Arthur, I'm so sorry. How? When?" I asked, seeking ways to comfort him.

"He was executed for his teachings. A year ago. I never even knew." I didn't know what to say to make this better for him, because I knew from experience that words did nothing. I reached out and touched his shoulder comfortingly, trying to tell him that I felt his pain. Arthur met my eyes for the first time in the conversation.

"You told me once, after Merrick was killed, to talk to you after I had lost my best friend, someone I had loved." We sighed together, both remembering the moment. Arthur had been trying to console me once we reached Hadrian's Wall and were burying Merrick, and I had lashed out unnecessarily in anger. "I know now how you felt, and you were right. I had no idea what you were going through. Now I do." He looked at me expectantly. "Does it ever get easier?"

"I'll let you know when I find out," I told him gently, and he managed a small smile or me. I rode next to him for the next ten minutes or so, providing wordless support.

When we emerged from the woods we found ourselves facing a large lake, frosted over with a layer of ice. Tristan didn't seem surprised, so I reasoned that he must have found it last night after he had sent me back to camp. I wasn't very pleased with the prospect of trusting our loves to the fact that the ice would hold under our caravan's weight, and Arthur seemed to share my feelings as he motioned for Tristan and the rest of the knights to join us.

"Is there any other way?" He asked. Tristan shook his head.

"No. We have to cross the ice." Arthur thought this over before he started giving orders.

"Get them all out of the carriages. Tell them to spread out." We dismounted in unison and began to walk around to each caravan, telling the villagers what we were about to do. Then we set out across the ice, leading our horses, watching each step with caution.

Once we were about halfway across the ice let out a loud groan that paused us midstride, looking around frantically for telltale fissures that would warn us of larger, more dangerous cracks. The sounds of the Saxon drums filled the air, getting louder and louder with each passing minute. I knew we couldn't run for much longer. Arthur came to the same conclusion. He turned to face the eight of us standing behind him.

"Knights…" He trailed off, unable to find words to ask us for the sacrifice we were going to have to make. Bors broke the tense silence.

"Well, I'm tired of running. And these Saxons are so close, my arse is hurting."

"Never liked looking over my shoulder anyway," Tristan commented, and a few of us smirked.

"It'll be a pleasure to put an end to this racket," Gawain pointed out.

"And we'll finally get a look at the bastards," Galahad stated. Dagonet was already moving to unpack his weapons.

"Here." I joined him, readying my own.

"Now." I finished, smiling reassuringly at Arthur, letting him know that we all knew this was inevitable, and not his fault. Lancelot shook his head disapprovingly, but we ignored him. It was time to focus now. Arthur called to Jols, who started assigning people to take our horses away as we got everything ready. He then turned to Ganis, that farmer from Marius's estate.

"Ganis, I need you to lead the people," Arthur requested. "The main Saxon army is inland, so if you track the coast until you're well south of the wall you should be safe." Ganis looked at us, bewildered.

"But, you're eight against two hundred!" He exclaimed.

"Nine," a voice from behind us said, and I turned to see Guinevere walking up to us, longbow in hand. "You could use another bow," she told Arthur before joining us in our preparations. Ganis hesitated.

"I'd rather stay and fight," he said uncertainly.

"You'll get your chance soon enough," Arthur promised him. "Guards!" He yelled to the Roman officers. "This man is your captain now. You'll do as he says, am I understood?" They nodded nervously. Arthur turned back to Ganis.

"Go," he commanded. Ganis nodded and went back to his people.

"Right. Come on then, move on!" He began directing them. Arthur began speaking to Alecto, who had this insane idea that he was to join us, so I started to help Jols unload our packs of arrows from one of the supply horses, laying them out along the ice in even intervals where we would be standing. I assumed my normal position in firing ranks; right in the middle, between Dagonet and Lancelot. The last carriage, the one carrying Lucan was rolling out of our sight, and the little boy waved sadly at Dagonet. Dagonet smiled and waved back reassuringly before coming to stand next to me. Guinevere, who knew nothing o our usual formations took the spot on Lancelot's other side, where Arthur usually stood, so he slid down to the end. Jols finished laying the last of our weapons at our feet before hurrying after the caravan. The Saxons stepped into our line of vision a few moments later. Our original estimates had been right; there were about two hundred of them.

"Hold until I give the command," Arthur reminded us unnecessarily, trying to ease our jitters. Lancelot noticed for the first time that his commander was not standing right next to him, and looked somewhat annoyed about that fact.

"You look frightened," he informed Guinevere. It was a lie of course, she looked calmer than all of us, but I still didn't mind him picking on her. "There's a large number of lonely men out there," he stated mockingly. Guinevere didn't miss a beat.

"Don't worry," she told him sincerely. "I won't let them rape you." I couldn't help it. It didn't matter that I didn't like the Woad girl in the least bit, it didn't matter that we were facing almost certain death, the look on Lancelot's face was _priceless_. I laughed out loud, earning a glare from Lancelot, but causing everyone else to snicker as well.

The Saxons stopped a good distance away from us. At a command, one of their archers drew his bow and fired an arrow at us. It made it about halfway across the gap before clattering to the ice.

"I believe they're waiting for an invitation. Quinn, Tristan," Arthur requested, and I smiled as I drew my bow back.

"They're far out of range," Guinevere protested. I looked at her and raised one eyebrow before firing my arrow high into the sky at the same time Tristan released all three of the ones he had nocked his bowstring. The four arrows took a high arc in the air and then plunged down into the chests of the four forward most Saxons, killing the instantly. I looked at Guinevere and smirked. She fell silent and readied her own bow.

The Saxons began moving forward again, causing the ice to creak.

"Aim the wings of the ranks," Arthur commanded. "Make them cluster." We obeyed, loosing our arrows in unison, hitting the nine people on the end of the Saxon ranks. The men who were now on the outside pressed in closer to the middle as we fired again, taking them down. The closer they got together, the more the ice cracked, threatening to give way under their increasing weight. We kept picking off the ends until their leader noticed what we were doing and began to yell at them to hold their positions. They spread out again and the noise coming from beneath them diminished marginally. They were getting closer now.

"It's not going to crack," Arthur voiced our fears. "Fall back!"

Dagonet met my eyes then and for a split second, the world stopped. I could see everything. We couldn't win this battle; there were simply too many of them and not enough of us. We could turn and run, but for how long? How long would it take or them to catch up to the caravan? An hour? Probably less. This was the end for us.

"Prepare for combat!" Arthur ordered. I ditched the bow in favor of my two long, curved knives. At least it would be an honorable death. We would go down fighting for or own freedom, and the lives of the villagers we had sent on before us. Dagonet hefted his broadsword before glancing back at me again. I flashed back to the dream I'd had last night.

"_Promise me you'll look after her," Merrick said, eyes blazing._

"_I'll protect her with my life," Dagonet vowed._

"No," I whispered, but it was far too late for that now. Dagonet was already moving as I cried out his name, begging him not to do this. He tossed his sword to the side and grabbed his battle axe, letting out a feral scream as he rushed forward, breaking rank and running toward the Saxon lines.

"No, Dag!" I screamed, and moved to run out after him, but Lancelot grabbed my arm and pulled me back before I could take more than a step.

"Cover him!" Arthur yelled, and I scrambled to redraw my bow, fumbling with the arrow before sending it desperately in the general direction of the Saxons, keeping my eye on Dagonet the whole time. He had stopped right between our two forces and raised his axe high above his head. When he brought it down to meet the ice a thunderous crack echoed through the valley. Fissures sprang up on the ice, but it held firm, refusing to give way so easily. The Saxon leader began throwing all of his archers out to the front of the line so they would have a clear shot at Dagonet. We picked them off one by one, giving Dagonet the chance he needed as he prepared for another strike. Dagonet's third blow took out a large chunk of ice at his feet. The fourth finally broke through the thick surface of frozen water, causing the ice to splinter into smaller portions, turning and shifting, bringing many of the Saxons down. I smiled as Dagonet lifted his axe for the final stroke, the one that would end it all.

Then an arrow slammed into his side. I broke away from everyone before Lancelot could catch me, sprinting towards Dagonet, without even any weapons. Arthur was a split second behind me.

Dagonet staggered back a step, but didn't fall. Then another arrow followed it, hitting a few inches below the first. I increased my speed, never taking my eyes off my best friend. Somehow, with a herculean effort, Dagonet kept the axe held high, and brought it slamming down one last time into the fragile ice. Everything went to pieces from there. The ground underneath the Saxons crumbled into nothing, sending most of them to their deaths in the freezing water. But I didn't see that. All I could see Was Dagonet slump to his knees, and then keel over and fall into the lake. I slid to my knees next to the opening, barely staying on the ice, and plunged my hand into the water, grasping the collar of Dagonet's cape before his bulky clothing could drag him down into the water. Arthur slid down next to me, and together we pulled Dagonet out and began dragging him back towards our small group.

"Come on, Dag, stay with me," I growled as we struggled with his weight, moving as quickly as possible since the surviving Saxons were still shooting at us. We were about halfway back when Bors met us, placing a broad shield in front of us, allowing us to focus only on getting Dagonet out of there.

"Pull back!" I vaguely heard Lancelot order our troops. "Arthur!" He yelled in warning. We weren't moving fast enough; the cracks in the ice were moving towards us as well.

"Help us!" I shrieked to no one in particular as I felt ice chunks begin to shift under my feet.. A moment later Gawain and Tristan were by my side, helping us bring Dagonet out of range and into safety. We moved past Galahad, Lancelot and Guinevere, who were still shooting arrows into the thinning Saxon company.

I knew we were safe when everyone else stopped trying to drag Dagonet and took a step away. I knelt down next to him and pulled his head into my lap. I knew right away that he was too cold. But I had to try.

"Dagonet!" I shouted at him, slapping his cheek lightly, trying to get him to wake up. "Stay with me. Dagonet, stay with me!!" I repeated frantically, watching for any vital signs of life to come from his body. Bors, who had been kneeling on the other side of him fell back onto his rear, in shock. Dagonet wasn't moving. Or breathing. My next breath came out as a sob as the awful truth sunk in. I buried my head in my hands as I knelt on the cold ground, weeping openly, not even trying to contain this. Lancelot was next to me in moments, his arms wrapping around me, pulling me up to my feet and away from Dagonet's body so that I could find the air to breathe. This couldn't be happening. Not again.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Guinevere focus in on the Saxon leader, who had been one of the few survivors, a look of rage on her usually calm face. She pulled out her last arrow and sent it flying across the gap between us at him. It struck the man next to him and he backed away quickly, out of range even for us. I took one good look at him, implanting his face in my memory before succumbing to the tears, melting into Lancelot's shoulder and crying until there was nothing left to cry. And he let me, barely moving at all, only stroking my back and hair and muttering soothing words. After a while I heard him growl something at Arthur about leaving me be. Arthur said some soft words to him, and then I felt his hand on my shoulder. I turned around slowly. Arthur looked at me with mournful eyes.

"Quinn, we need to move now. I'm so sorry." I nodded, and wiped away the tears that remained in my cheeks.

"I understand." I looked down at Dagonet's body, and then back up at Arthur. "We need to carry him." Arthur nodded, and motioned for everyone to pick up Dagonet. I took a spot near his head and together the last seven members of our company, and Guinevere, lifted Dagonet's body up off of the ground, and started walking in the direction we had sent the caravan, back to Hadrian's Wall, to receive the freedom that Dagonet could never have now.


	13. Running

It didn't take very long to catch up to the caravans, even though we were travelling on foot. We made our entrance as quietly as possible; we didn't want everyone to see Dagonet's frozen body. Not only would it be an insult to his death, to make him a spectacle like that, but it would almost certainly send our refugees into a terrorized panic. Even though we had most likely escaped the worst of the danger, the rest of the journey would be much easier if everyone remained calm.

We out Dagonet's body on the cart that had stored our weapons, covering his still form with a thick, woolen blanket. Lancelot took my horse from me as I climbed up into the cart and sat next to Dagonet, hugging my knees to my chest as I stared blankly at the unmoving form in front of me. I didn't know what to think; I didn't even know what to feel anymore. On some levels this was worse than Merrick's death. Dagonet had been my first and closest; the only one brave enough to speak to me back when I had been 'the girl,' and the only one who had never wanted to take advantage of our friendship, or the fact that I was usually the only girl we were around. He had been my brother in everything but blood. And we had been so close to making it through together. There were only a few scant hours remaining of our servitude, and everything he'd worked for had been ripped away in that one fatal instant. Fate was too cruel; this shouldn't have happened. It couldn't have. But the proof was laying right there in front of me. Cold, hard evidence that I couldn't deny, no matter how hard I tried. So instead I sat there and tried to figure out how to cope with this new, staggering blow.

Bors had ridden by a few times, glancing at his fallen friend with eyes full of sorrow. So did the rest of the knights, each pausing briefly to mourn over our mutual loss. Even Guinevere approached once, commenting on how brave Dag had been; how he had saved us all. Then she went back to sitting with Lucan. We were trying to keep the boy away from this scene. He shouldn't have to see Dagonet like this.

One person never left the cart. Lancelot. He rode his horse next to me the entire journey, never straying from my side, not even to make his rounds like everyone else. He just sat there silently, looking over at me frequently, with worry buried beneath those deep chocolate eyes. I knew what he was watching for. He was keeping an eye out for the maniacal depression that had consumed me after Merrick's death. He wanted to pull me out before I was sucked in too far. He was worried that this time I wouldn't be able to fight my way out like before. And he was right. There wasn't enough of me left. I knew, however, that it would never progress the stage where I needed to do so. Because a part of me had died with Merrick that day. A portion of my heart had been locked away for good, and the key had been thrown away. I wasn't capable of experiencing pain like that again. I could only be numb. Numb and cold.

We were back at the wall in what seemed like no time at all. I resurfaced from my thoughts to hear the townspeople cheering for us as the gates were drawn open. And for the first time, I didn't appreciate their cheers. Why were they happy? Someone had died, and they knew nothing. Even if they had known, what effect would it have had on them? They hadn't known Dagonet, so they couldn't possibly feel sorrow. We had guarded them for the better part of fifteen years, valuing their lives over our own. What had it all been for? Nothing. We'd given everything and all we got in return was something that should never have been taken form us in the first place. Merrick, Dagonet, everyone else that we had started this task with… their deaths had been for nothing.

We were passing into our section of the town now; the familiar courtyard in front of our corridors. The cart rumbled to a halt, and the rest of the knights dismounted their horses. I stood up, stretching muscles that were tingling after not being moved for so long, and hopped out of the cart. My unused legs collapsed like jelly when I hit the ground, and I pitched forward. A pair of strong, warm hands grabbed my arms before I could fall over, holding me upright. I pulled away from Lancelot quickly, and he raised one eyebrow, confused. There was no time to dwell on it, however, because at that moment Bishop Germanius strode into the courtyard. His eyes flew across our faces frantically until he found the one he was looking for.

"Alecto!" He cried, holding out his arms. Alecto made no move to go greet him. "Good! Christ be praised. Against all the odds Satan could possibly-" _Oh boy, here we go again…_ "Alecto! Let me see you! You have triumphed! Young Alecto! Let me see you! You are here!" I wish we could have all shared in his enthusiasm at the boy's safety. He didn't even notice that one of us was missing. There was, however, someone that did. Lucan darted between two guards, sprinting towards the cart bearing Dagonet's body.

"Lucan!" Guinevere called after him, but he was not going to stop.

"You, boy!" One of the guards shouted to him, putting his hand on the hilt of his sword and stepping forward. Galahad, who was closest to the man, had his dagger out and raised at his neck before anyone could blink. The guard wisely stopped moving immediately. Somewhere along the bumpy cobblestones of our village Dagonet's body had been jostled, and one of his arms hung limply over the edge of the cart. Lucan stood staring at it in silence, and tears filled both of our eyes. Lucan reached forward and pulled Dagonet's large ring off his finger, holding it to his chest tightly. Guinevere put her hands on his shoulders and led him away quietly. The Bishop was not so happy now.

"Great knights," he chuckled nervously. "You are free now!" He motioned to one of his servants to move forward with our papers and hold them out to us. "Your papers of safe conduct throughout the Roman Empire! Take it, Arthur." Arthur approached the Bishop with a cold, hard face.

"Bishop Germanius, friend of my father," he spat before turning on his heel and walking away without another look back. Everything was different now. He knew that he had been lied to and betrayed, and Rome was no longer the single light shining in darkness. Rome was the darkness trying to smother the flame. Lancelot ripped the papers out of the box, and handed one to each of us in turn. I accepted mine in silence, reflecting on the irony of this scene. We had always believed this would be the best day of our lives, filled with parties and celebration. This day was what had gotten us through all those hard years. I guess things just never turn out the way you plan. After all, I had planned on going home and settling down with Merrick. Look how that turned out.

Bors was glaring daggers at the Bishop when Lancelot approached him.

"Bors." There was no response. "Bors!" He repeated, louder and firmer this time, and Bors finally looked at him. Lancelot held up the last two papers. "For Dagonet," he consoled Bors. Bors grabbed the papers from him roughly.

"This doesn't make him a free man," he said, his voice thick. "He's already a free man. He's dead!" He yelled, throwing the papers down at the Bishop's feet and then stomping away. I flinched involuntarily as they clattered to the ground. Gawain strode forward and picked both of them up, following Bors back to their rooms, with Galahad trailing behind both of them. Tristan started walking after them, but took a detour to examine the box that our papers had been delivered in, plucking it out of the servant's hands and taking it with him as he left. Lancelot turned to face me, but I walked away, heading to my room, ready to pack my bags and get out of here.

I closed my door behind me gently, and looked over my quarters, letting out a large breath. I felt safe here. It was stable; nothing ever changed. Until now. Now it would pass to another young knight, who would use it for the entirety of his servitude. It was so strange, to think that in a day or two I would no longer be able to call this place my home. I sighed, shaking my head. This is what we had wanted, I shouldn't be feeling sadness. I walked over to the closet and started removing the clothes that remained in it, folding them neatly on the bed. Next came my armor, still shining from its polish a few days ago. Then I started gathering all the odds and ends I had gathered over the years; the things that had meaning and carried memories. There was my first weapon I had been given to train with, a small dagger. The wooden statue of a wolf that Lancelot had whittled for me one night. Merrick's sword, which I had kept with me after his burial. I couldn't leave any of it behind, everything held too many emotions. A soft knock on my door interrupted me.

"Come in," I called, and the door opened to reveal Gawain.

"We're ready for the burial," he told me quietly, and I nodded.

"All right. I'll be right there," I replied, forcing on a fake smile to let him know that I could handle this."

A half hour later, however, when I watched the first loads of dirt cover Dagonet's body, I wasn't so sure of how 'ok' I was. Why was it always the people I cared about most who got killed? Who would it be next, Arthur? Blaez? Lancelot? Was I just bad luck? Cursed or something of the likes?" It had to be something, or else I would have been settled down with a family by now, like every other woman my age; not stuck here on this island fighting in a bloody war.

By now the grave was covered, and a large mass of dirt filled the space that had formerly been grass. Just one more lump of dirt amongst many. How many more people had to die before this would end? How many more generations of knights would perish without cause after being ripped away from their homes and families? And why did no one care? Why was I the only one who seemed to notice that the world was caving in around us? I took a step back from where I stood, distancing myself from the reality of Dagonet's death. Then another, and another, until I finally turned and ran.

Running. I loved it. The power flowing through my body; the sheer raw energy hurtling me forwards. The excitement of chase, the adrenaline coursing through my veins, it made me feel unstoppable. And the freedom. No one could catch me now; the world was mine to do with as I pleased.

But this was not running for pleasure. This was running to survive. To try to hold myself together, and stop the entire world from self-destructing around me. I ran from my past, from my failures as both a knight and a friend. Most of all, though, I ran from the ghosts. From Merrick. From Dagonet. I had to get away before I was completely torn apart. So I ran.

Blaez appeared beside me, running at a full loping stride, and I ran faster, racing with my brother of the forest. I was flying. And nothing could bring me down.

Then they were running with me. Dagonet on my left. Merrick on my right. Both matching my long strides, something only Merrick had even come close to doing in life. They weren't real. I knew that. They were only there in my mind, and in my heart. That fact was emphasized by the vibrant glow surrounding both of their bodies. Without breaking stride, Dagonet turned his head to look at me.

"Let go, Quinn," he told me quietly, though his voice resonated deeply throughout the forest. I shook my head violently, pushing my legs even harder, until I was almost out of control. Merrick reached over and touched my hand, taking it into his. Time stopped for an instant. It felt so good, to be connected to him like this again.

"It's ok," he reassured me, smiling. The tears came immediately. "Just let it all go."

"I can't," I choked out, my breath catching in my throat.

"You have to," Merrick urged. "No more running, Quinn. You have to fight now." My breaths were coming out shorter, harder, unevenly. I couldn't let him go. I had to hold on to him.

"I know it's hard, Quinn. But I want you to do this. You need to, to move on with your life." A face flashed through my mind, and I reddened, ashamed. "It's ok," Merrick repeated. "I know, and I want you to have it. Lave is the answer, Quinn. Without it there is no life, only an empty, hollow shell that produces endless, meaningless days. I want you to have love, to have life."

"Let go," Dagonet whispered again. Merrick met eyes steadily.

"Let if all fall away," he breathed. "Just let it fall."

Something inside me snapped, and I was crashing to the ground, falling hard to the forest floor. Dagonet and Merrick were gone. I lay where I had fallen, unable to move, unable to breathe even, drowning in this sea of emotions, struggling to reach the surface, gasping for air when I did, only to be sucked back under again.

"Quinn!" A voice called frantically, and hands touched my body questioningly. "Quinn, look at me, please!" He repeated. The desperation in his voice forced my eyes open to meet Lancelot's. The fear there was endless.

"Quinn, you need to calm down, take a deep breath," he pleaded with me. My vision swam, I wasn't getting enough oxygen. "Quinn, please!" He begged me.

"I don't want to fall," I gasped, my body beginning to shake in tremors. Lancelot wrapped his arms around me protectively, drawing me in close to his body.

"I'll catch you," he whispered into my ear.

It was like a ray of light bursting through a cloudy day. The confusion and fear parted, showing me a clear path out. Lancelot was standing right in the middle of that path. He was the one. He had found that part of me that had been locked away, and brought the key with him. He had been there all along, but I had never been able to see.

My heart stopped hammering in my ears, quieting to its normal tempo and even rhythm. My breathing became more regular, and my body practically screamed in relief as blessed oxygen rushed into my lungs. The world stopped spinning, and I let Lancelot hold me, leaning into his chest.

"I'm sorry for the way I've been acting," I apologized suddenly as soon as I was completely calm again. Lancelot said nothing, he knew there was an exclamation coming. "At first I was jealous," I admitted. "I thought Guinevere was going to take my place, and I got worried. But then, with Dagonet…" I took a deep breath and then spat my next words out all once. "Everyone I love gets killed and I was scared because if I let myself admit what I feel about you then I'm betraying Merrick and signing your death warrant all at once." Lancelot cocked his head to one side.

"And what changed now?" He asked. I smiled a little bit.

"I got some good advice, to follow my heart." Lancelot raised an eyebrow.

"And what is your heart saying?"

"That I think I could be in love with you." There it was, the cat was out of the bag. Lancelot tried to keep a calm, indifferent face, but the happiness shining in his eyes was undeniable.

"That's good news, then, because I'm fairly certain that I've been in love with you for a long time." I smiled at the excitement in his voice.

"well, now that that's settled," I began, and Lancelot leaned down into me, and our lips collided. Nothing else mattered as we melted together, until he suddenly pulled away from me.

"What's wrong?" I asked, confused.

"Quinn, are you sure about this?" Lancelot asked hesitantly. "What about Merrick?"

"He wants me to be happy. And I'm happy with you, Lancelot. So yes, I'm sure." Lancelot grinned.

"How long until they send a search party from the wall, do you think?" I laughed before answering.

"I think it could be a while," I stated seriously.

"Hm, whatever will we do with all this time?" Lancelot wondered sarcastically out loud. I raised my eyebrows.

"Well, since a good soldier never wastes time, I guess I could think of a thing or two…" I replied, untying the string that held my pants up tightly.

"Woman, I like the way you think," Lancelot said, and I smiled again, anticipating what was to come as Lancelot had his wicked way with me. I was not disappointed.


	14. What's Going to Happen Now?

A/N: Hi everyone! Listen, I'm sorry it's taken so long for me to update! I've been so busy in college this semester, and really just haven't been inspired to write much at all. I know that this part is short, but I figured it would be better than nothing. I promise the next one will be both longer and better! Reviews are always appreciated, and thanks to the people who already have!

Back to the story:

Lancelot and I shouldn't have worried about being found, because no search party ever came looking for us. Maybe Arthur guessed at what was going on in the woods. Or, perhaps no one cared anymore because they no longer needed us. We were finally free. Either way, it didn't bother me since it allowed Lancelot and I to have our fun uninterrupted. The sun was beginning to sink when we mutually decided that it was time to let up, and were just laying next to each other silently.

"We should get back," I whispered eventually.

"Do we have to?" Lancelot groaned.

"Someone might eventually start to worry," I reminded him lightly. He scoffed at me and sighed as he stretched out like a cat, flexing all of those glorious muscles. I slapped his bare stomach playfully, causing him to let out the huge breath of air he had been holding in a rush.

"Come on, big boy. Up and at 'em," I hopped to my feet and then lent a hand to Lancelot and helping him to his. We started heading back towards the wall slowly; taking our time, enjoying the solitude. Sometimes it was nice to get away from all of the noise and unceasing activity. The wall would be a mad house, what with everyone packing and getting ready to go their own separate ways. There had never been anything like this before.

"What are we going to do?" I asked Lancelot suddenly.

"Walk back to camp?" He joked. I gave him the look. "What do you mean?" He asked.

"Where do we go from here?" I specified. "Home, I suppose," Lancelot mused. "Why, isn't that what you want?"

"I don't know what I want," I answered honestly. "I don't even know where my home is anymore." Lancelot stopped walking and turned to face me, putting his hands on my shoulders.

"All I know is this," he began seriously. "My home is with you. Wherever you go, I will follow, whether it be Sarmatia or into Rome herself. As long as you will have me, I will be with you whatever you choose." His voice rang with sincerity; devoid of its usual sarcastic lilt. And that was the most perfect thing he could have said. I flung my arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. How could he possibly know exactly what I needed to hear like that? He opened his mouth to speak again as I pulled away from him, but I hushed him by putting my finger to his lips.

"Don't ruin it," I requested, and he closed his mouth again, smiling as he took my hand in his and began walking back towards the camp again.

~Arthur's POV~

I saw Quinn reel away and begin to run towards the forest. Lancelot looked at me, as if for permission, and I nodded slightly. He took off after her at a slightly slower pace, giving her her room to mourn before he found her. I knew she would not want to listen to me right now, so I made no move to follow. I had other things weighing on my mind. Dagonet's death had not made me forget what I had already been upset about, the news of Pelagius in Rome. I felt worse now than when my own father had died. The rest of the knights began to split apart, going their separate directions, so I took the time to walk to the mound of dirt that marked where my father rested, kneeling down next to his grave. I heard light footsteps approach me from behind, and knew immediately that it was Guinevere.

"A grave with no sword," she commented.

"It was my father's wish that if he died on this island, he would be buried with his knights," I informed her.

"He died in battle?"

"It's a family tradition," I retorted.

"I can see why you believe that you have nothing left here. Except what you and your knights have done. You have your deeds," she consoled me.

"Deeds in themselves are meaningless unless they're for some higher purpose. We have waged a war to protect a Rome that does not exist. Is that the deed I am to be judged by?" I shot at her.

"You stayed and fought when you didn't have to. You bloodied evil men when you could have run. You did all that for no reason? These are your people," the Woad girl fumed.

"Pelagius told me once, "There is no worse death than the end of hope."" I quoted. For I had lost hope in the humanity of the world.

"You and I are not the polite people that live in poems. We are blessed, and cursed, by our times," she reasoned with me.

"Perhaps the curse is of our own making. And the blessing."

"What are you afraid of, Arthur? You're like this country, Britons with a Roman father. Rome is dead. This place, this land, your home, is the last outpost of freedom, of everything you hold dear. These are your people," she told me firmly, and I turned to meet her penetrating gaze. It seemed as though she could see straight through me. I had never felt as connected to someone as I did in that moment. It was as if our two souls merged into one, and the union seemed so right. Guinevere took my hand, and we rose together, needing no words to know where we were heading, and what we were about to do.

~Quinn's POV~

The walk back to Hadrian's Wall was perfect: peaceful, quiet and serene. All of this was shattered, however, when we reached our destination at last. I knew immediately from the flurry of activity that something wasn't right. What could have possibly happened in the few hours that we had been gone? I looked up to Lancelot, and his eyes held the same confusion as my own.

"Quinn!" I heard Gawain calling my name and spun to find him jogging towards us frantically. "Where have you been, we've been looking all over for the two of you," he rushed on breathlessly. Lancelot put a hand on Gawain's shoulder.

"Slow down. Now, what has happened?" Gawain's eyes flickered towards the wall, and my own gaze followed, where I saw Galahad and Tristan standing on the wall, eyes fixed on something in the distance. I was running towards them before Gawain could explain, running up the stairs two at a time until I skidded to a stop beside my fellow knights. My heart stopped in my chest, and I heard Lancelot take in a sharp breath as he arrived next to me. The entire Saxon army had arrived. There were thousands of them, many more than we had ever thought there could be. My blood ran cold as I thought of everything the Saxons had taken from me, and how much more could be lost against this large of a force. Everything.

"Where's Arthur?" Lancelot asked sharply. Tristan lifted his shoulders slightly, conceding his lack of that information. Then Arthur was running up the stairs to join us, with Guinevere right on his heels. I did a double take when I noticed Arthur's disheveled look, how he was only wearing a unfastened tunic, and The fact that Guinevere's dress was hanging off one shoulder loosely, as if put on in a great hurry. An image shot through my mind, and I closed my eyes tightly, not wanting to envision what had just happened between the two. Oh, that little-

Lancelot's arm brushed against mine slightly, causing me to look up at our commander, who was still staring at the army in front of us. He turned slowly, meeting Guinevere's eyes first, but slowly spreading it to encompass all of his remaining knights. Then he turned and looked at the village behind us. All the villagers had gathered in the square behind the wall where we stood, looking up at us expectantly, fear showing on all of their faces. Arthur's eyes took on a new glint as he turned to face us again. I didn't like what I saw there. Lancelot sighed beside me. He, too, knew what was about to come.

"Knights," Arthur began. "My journey with you must end here. May God go with you," he wished us in way of a goodbye, and then he turned and began walking down the stairs. Lancelot shook his head slowly, and then looked at Guinevere, who stood next to the wall, gazing out at the army. She met his gaze coolly, and I knew what was happening.

"Arthur!" Lancelot called after his commander, following him quickly. "Arthur, this is Rome's fight; this is not your fight!"

Guinevere began to follow the two men, but I grabbed her arm roughly.

"What are you doing?" I hissed at her. She glared at me, and tried to tug her arm free, but I held fast. "You're using him. You played at Arthur's sensitive side somehow and got him to fight for you and your people. I don't know how you did it, but you did." She didn't bother to deny it. "You can't do this!" I yelled. "Leave my family alone!"

"Family?" She scoffed. "What is it that you call a family? These men here don't care about you, not in the way you hope. What do you think you've gained? Their respect? Possibly, because you are fairly skilled with a blade. But their loyalty? They will leave you as soon as the day is over, and you will never see them again. Their love?  
She laughed lightly, and pulled at her arm again. My grip, however, tightened, and I pulled her back closer to me. I tugged her so hard that she would have come crashing into me. Except at the same time, my fist crashed into her face. Her head snapped back with the force of my blow, and she staggered backwards, into Galahad's waiting arms. Tristan smothered a laugh, but Gawain's chuckle escaped his lips as I shook out the vibrations from my hand and ran after Arthur and Lancelot.

Arthur was still walking away but Lancelot was only half a step behind him.

"All these long years we've been together, the trials we've faced, the blood we've shed. What was it all for, if not for the reward of freedom? And now when we are so close, when it is finally within our grasp..." Arthur finally stopped moving when Lancelot grabbed his arm and spun him around. "Look at me! Does it all count for nothing?" Lancelot asked him urgently.

"You ask me that? You who know me best of all?" Arthur pressed, and then began walking again. Lancelot darted in front of him to block his path.

"Then do not do this. Only certain death awaits you here. Arthur, I beg you! For our friendship's sake, I beg you!" Lancelot pleaded. Arthur grasped his friend's shoulder with compassion.

"Then be my friend now and do not dissuade me. Seize the freedom you have earned and live it for the both of us. I cannot follow you, Lancelot," Arthur said urgently, and Lancelot's dark eyes filled with sadness. "I now know that all the blood I have shed, all the lives I have taken have led me to this moment." Lancelot's face paled, but he nodded weakly, letting Arthur finally brush by him. He stood in the same spot, swaying slightly. I moved to his side quickly, pressing up against his side, giving him my unspoken support.

"Let him go," I whispered to him as he breathed heavily, looking over his shoulder at our commander. "It's his decision." He wrapped his arms around me, as if they could ward away the danger.

"What happened to Guinevere?" He asked, amusement in his voice. I smiled into his shoulder.

"I hit her," I admitted. He laughed softly

"That's my girl." I just leaned into him even further.

"You're trembling," he whispered in my ear.

"So are you," I breathed back. "What are we going to do now?" I asked him softly. He did not answer, because neither of us wanted to hear what he would have had to say.


	15. Ceremony

Lancelot and I were dragged into the frenzy that was overtaking the village. I ran into my room and made sure all of my belongings were ready to go at first light. Most of it was already set aside, but I made sure to keep a separate bundle including my heavy armor and my smaller weapons that could be easily concealed. I was not naïve enough to believe that we were getting out of here without a fight.

I didn't let the villagers see that, however, when I helped as many of them as possible, instructing them on what to take with them and what to leave behind: what clothes and footwear to bring, and how to pack food rations. I saw the spark in their eyes as soon as they looked at me. They thought that we could save them; that they just had to evacuate the city and then they would be safe. But I knew that safety no longer existed, not with a force like this at our doors. We could run for a while, but the villagers would have to make frequent stops to rest, while the Saxon army wouldn't. We would be hunted, and we would not have enough manpower to stop them. None of these thoughts shone through my helpful exterior, though, until, the last cart was loaded, and I collapsed on a pile of hay in the stable next to Lancelot, exhausted.

"We're going to die," I whispered.

"Arthur will hold them long enough to give us a fair chance." I scoffed lightly at this idea. What could one man do against thousands, even if that man was Arthur? Lancelot seemed to read my mind. "Preparations are being made," he reassured me. "Tar is being gathered to create smoke, flammable arrows are being fletched, and I suspect some sort of treaty has been formed with the Woads," he mused, a small smile spreading over his face. "But, after the way you abused Guinevere, maybe not," he joked as an afterthought, trying to lighten the mood. It did not work.

"It's not enough-" I began to object, but Lancelot's hand silenced me.

"If that's true, than this is likely one of our last nights together," he stated. I could only nod. "We should make the most of the time we have left," he pondered out loud, suddenly thoughtful. I tried to pull away from him, knowing where this was going, but he held onto me tightly.

"Lancelot, I don't want to. I'm tired; can't we just go to sleep?" I complained. Lancelot didn't answer; I could almost see the gears in his head tumbling at lightning pace as he worked out a plan. A small smile spread across his face. Uh oh. Whatever it was, it could not be good, I mean, when are things that make men smile like that ever good, I don't even want to know what he has planned-

"Quinn," Lancelot cut off my rambling thoughts as he pulled away from me and stood up, holding one of my hands.

"Will you marry me?"

Oh.

Oh wow.

Didn't see that one coming.

OH MY GOD!

"Quinn?" Lancelot's gentle voice brought me back to reality again, silencing the voices in my head that were still screaming. "Will you be my wife?"

It took a moment for me to find my voice to answer.

"Yes." His eyes lit up with joy and love. "Yes, Lancelot, yes I will marry you!" My voice rose to a girlish squeal as he pulled me up from the hay, hugging me to him and spinning me round. He set me down and kissed me, hard and passionately, and suddenly it was extremely hard to breathe. I had never seen him so happy before.

"We have to find Arthur!" He exclaimed.

"Why?" I asked, slightly confused.

"So he can perform the ceremony! Who else possibly could?"

"Wait, we're doing this now?" I demanded.

"You've just said it yourself; there may not be another chance!" Lancelot exclaimed. "But, of course, I will understand if this is too sudden…"

"But I have nothing to wear!" I complained. Lancelot smiled broadly.

"Quinn, I would marry you exactly you are: with your dirt streaked face, hay in your hair and wearing nothing more than worn down trousers and a loose tunic." I broke out into a large grin, and, hand in hand, we went to find Arthur.

And that's how I married Lancelot. All right, well, I admit it, I washed my face, picked the hay out of my hair and dressed into the nicest pair of trousers and my best tunic, but other than that, nothing else had changed. The townspeople were still running around like chickens with their heads cut off, and there was still a Saxon army waiting right outside the gate. But I would not have had it any other way. Arthur was overjoyed when we told him our news, and volunteered to perform the ceremony right away. Galahad, Gawain, Bors, and Tristan gathered around to serve as witnesses. All of them had actually changed as well, something I wasn't expecting, and I suspected that they might have even bathed. Maybe I should get married more often…

Vanora helped me prepare for everything, and was serving as my matron. As she walked me over to where all the men waited my heart was racing out of my chest. I had never even dreamed this day would come. I was about to marry the man I loved. Well, one of them. That was the only thing lingering on my mind. I wished Merrick was here, and Dagonet. But I knew that they would have wanted this for me.

I forgot about everything else other than my future husband, however, as I saw Lancelot standing next to Arthur, waiting for me. He was dressed in a rich black tunic and trousers that I had never seen before. I knew that he had been saving them for this day, even though he had never been sure it would come. I stopped next to him, facing Arthur. Our captain smiled at us, and then began to speak the words that would officially bind us together for the rest of our lives, however short a time that may be.

Throughout the brief ceremony, many of the villagers gathered around us, providing us an audience for which to speak the final words.

"Do you, Lancelot, take Quinn to be your wife, and cherish her through sickness and health, until the day that you die?" Lancelot's deep brown eyes met my own.

"I do," he stated firmly. Arthur turned to me.

"And you, Quinn. Do you take Lancelot as your husband, being fully aware of his somewhat blemished past," the knights broke out laughing at this, and so did I, but Arthur kept going seriously. "In sickness and in health, good times and bad, until death do you part?" I smiled.

"I do." The entire crowd broke into wild applause, making Arthur's next words barely audible.

"I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss your bride," he informed Lancelot.

And that man made sure that the audience knew exactly what Arthur had just said.


	16. Promises

Author's Note: PLEASE READ!!

Hey everyone, I'm very sorry that this has taken so long for me to update! I've had an unbelievable amount of schoolwork, and have had a teensy bit of writer's block. So this might not be the best installment, but I just needed to get past this scene and into the last one. Which brings me to my real reason for this note.

I've been deliberating for some time over just _how_ to end this story. I had it all planned out, and really liked what I had, but I am starting to have second thoughts. And third thoughts. So, the next chapter that will be published will be the ORIGINAL ending. BUT, after that, there will be at least one (and knowing me, most likely around 3) ALTERNATE endings. I am going to try to make everyone happy with these endings, so you can all choose which way you want the story to end. SO, if you have any ideas about what you think the perfect ending would be, please feel free to share them with me. There is a high probability that they will already be included in one of the endings I have planned, but if not, I will try my best to write an ending with your scenario, as long as it is somewhat realistic. But I am not a mind reader, so unless you tell me what you want, it might not make it into the story. So, you can either write your suggestion in a review, or, if you want to keep it a secret from everyone else or remain anonymous, shoot me an email. My email address is or , and I check both of them multiple times a day. If you email me, I WILL email you back as soon as I can to let you know about your suggestions. Hopefully, the first (original) ending will be ready in a week or so, and then the others will probably some out fairly quickly. I really want your input, so please, please give me some ideas. Thanks!!

~Krysty

Now, onto the story, sorry that took so long!

My wedding night was wonderful, but it was soon over. Lancelot and I rose before dawn, and prepared to leave Hadrian's Wall forever. The air was filled with a tense silence, and even my newly made husband and I made no sound as we dressed in loose fighting clothes. I didn't have long to say goodbye to my home, so I had to use my time wisely. I drifted through the training yards, watching the shadowed figures of my childhood dance before my eyes. I floated around the community square, recalling so many rowdy parties. Soon I was in the stables, which seemed to be where everything had been happening lately. My accidental eavesdropping, the start of our final mission, and my wedding proposal… and now it was where we were all meeting to depart.

There was a wagon waiting for us outside the stable, and I claimed a corner of it as my own, carefully placing my armor, weapons, and the small chest that carried the rest of my belongings there, leaving plenty of room for the boys' things, which would undoubtedly be much less organized than mine. I didn't take much longer for everyone to assemble and pack their things, for we really did not have much to bring with us. As Galahad, the last one to arrive, finished packing his belongings I began to saddle Arion. He would be coming with us, as would all the other knight's horses, even though we weren't sure exactly how we were going to provide for them, especially since we didn't even know where we were going. They were just too much to leave behind: they were as much a part of us as our weapons, and I couldn't bear to think of a filthy Saxon getting his hands on my wonderful stallion.

No one was there to bid us goodbye as we left the village at the rear of the train of villagers. The Roman soldiers had taken the lead and were keeping the commoners in order, which technically included us, since our service as knights had officially ended. It felt odd, watching them work, and I knew Tristan was sharing my discomfort. We had always been the ones to ride out and take the lead, scouting for danger. This just felt wrong. We were knights, perhaps no longer in title, but still in nature. And inaction was not part of what we did.

It was not long after we left the walls that Arion began to fidget restlessly beneath me, prancing in and out of line, edging towards the hill on our right. I looked up and the sun blazed in my eyes, blinding me for a moment. But when my vision cleared, I saw a formidable knight clad in pitch black armor that shone like diamonds in the sunlight, astride a large white stallion who looked as fierce as its rider. The knight stood alone; strong, proud and unafraid. Suddenly, Bors broke our ranks, riding to the base of the steep hill and staring up at the figure.

"Artorius!" He bellowed. "RUUUSSSS!!!"

His cry, the cry of our forefathers, echoed across the countryside, ringing through the rolling hills. There was a moment of silence which no one broke, not even with the barest whisper of breath. Then Arthur's horse reared up onto his hind legs as our captain brandished his sword, holding Excalibur high in the air as a beacon of hope for everyone to see, shouting Bors's cry back down to us with a fierce intensity that sent chills up and down my spine. Arion bucked and reared, whinnying loudly, and I fought to keep him under control. He settled back down to the ground but remained skittish, not staying in one place for more than a moment before flitting away. Most of the other knights were having similar problems. Finally, after a few minutes of discomfort I gave up and dismounted.

"What are you doing?" Lancelot asked incredulously. I shrugged.

"Our horses are smarter than we are," I replied, walking towards the supply wagon. The Saxon drums were becoming audible, and as their volume increased so did the discomfort of our horses.

"Quinn, get back on your horse," Lancelot requested urgently.

"I can't," I replied calmly. It was odd that with everything I was going to set in motion, I had never felt more relaxed.

Lancelot opened his mouth, presumably to rephrase his request as an order, but at that moment his horse Saoirse reared, almost throwing him off. I dodged her flailing hoofs and grabbed her reins, pulling her down to the ground firmly before Lancelot was de-horsed. I looked around at my fellow knights as Lancelot patted Saoirse's neck, calming her down. When I spoke again it was to all of them.

"This is wrong," I stated plainly. "We all know it; even the horses can feel it. Arthur has led us without fail for fifteen years; are we going to give up and walk out on him now?" I grabbed my plate armor from the wagon and began to strap it on briskly.

"I cannot choose a path for any of you, but know this. That is my commander. And I will stand by him. Whatever your decision may be, I love all of you as brothers, and I hope that you find happiness wherever life takes you."

I turned away from them, not wanting to see if they were following my lead, or influence their decisions with any emotions that might be showing through my calm exterior. I pulled on my breastplate, and struggled with the latch to clip the front and back together. Long, nimble fingers pushed mine out of the way, and Lancelot finished the process for me, whispering in my ear at the same time.

"We don't have to do this," he breathed. "We can run away from everything, and start a life together." I shook my head a fraction.

"No, we can't," I reminded him. "Then we would live the rest of our lives in shame, wondering about what we could have done and how it might have helped."

"I know," he sighed, "but I had to try." He reached around me and drew his armor out of the wagon as well, as I started to dress Arion in his own protective equipment.

Minutes later I held our banner high as I rode up the slope to join Arthur on the hill's peak, falling into place on his left side immediately. His eyes met mine and I smiled supportively. Before Arthur could open his mouth to speak Lancelot fell in at his right hand. Then, to my relief, and slight surprise, Gawain, Galahad, Tristan and Bors galloped up the incline, all dressed for battle, until what was left of our battle ravaged company stood in a single file line, overlooking an impossibly large Saxon army. Arthur's eyes flew to all of our faces questioningly.

"You can't get rid of us that easily," I told him sincerely, placing my hand atop his own, conveying all of our support. He needed no words to express his gratitude, but he somehow found them as we watched a small section of the Saxon army break off and march through the gates of Hadrian's Wall.

"Knights, the gift of freedom is yours by right. But the home we seek resides not in some distant land. It's in us and in our actions on this day. If this be our destiny, then so be it. But let history remember that as free men we chose to make it so!" He finished, and we all bellowed our reply in unison.

"RUUS!"

A thick, dark gray smoke had grown from the piles of tar, pitch and hay that had been strategically positioned throughout the field, and now lay across what was about to become a battleground in a blanket. We drew our swords in unison for what very well may be the last time as the Saxons entered the field. Once they were a safe distance in, some of the villagers who had refused to leave pushed the large doors shut behind them, blocking off any route of escape. That was when we struck.

They had no chance of defeating us. The smoke made it impossible for the men to see more than a few feet in front of them, and that made them nervous. They didn't even know we were coming the first time we galloped down from the hill as quietly as the action would permit, slicing through their group like a rocket, cutting down everyone who stood in our way and separating the small band. Then we did it again, and again, and again. Sneak up on them, strike, and then disappear before they could realize they had been fatally injured. It was over within minutes. None of us even had a scratch.

The same men who had closed the gate opened it again, allowing the one survivor of the company that had held almost fifty less than five minutes ago to go report back to his commander, most likely raving about how we were demons and the whole place was cursed. That would give us a small amount of time to prepare for the real battle.

Lancelot turned to me urgently as we made our way back up onto the hill.

"Quinn, if I asked you

to do something, would you promise to do it?" I didn't like the sound of his voice.

"What is it?" I asked cautiously. Lancelot looked around frantically, a frenzied look in his eyes.

"There's no time," he began. "Please, Quinn, please do this for me," h begged, pleaded, and now I was becoming frightened.

"Fine, yes, I promise!" I capitulated. "No please, tell me what's wrong!" He took my hands in his own, looking deep into my eyes.

"I can't lose you," he told me sincerely. I opened my mouth to tell him that it would be fine, that we would always be together, but he cut me off.

"I want you to leave," he said firmly. His words reverberated through my mind for a moment before my startled reply left my mouth.

"What?" I yelped.

"I want you to leave now and ride away from all of this; don't stop at the caravan, just keep riding until you're safe."

"Lancelot, you know I can't do that," I whispered. Lancelot looked at me apologetically for a moment, and then all the emotion was gone from his eyes, he had locked it away inside him somewhere.

"You promised," he said harshly, and a cold feeling crept into my stomach.

"You tricked me!" I accused.

"It's the only way of knowing you're safe," he said, his fear leaking through this cold exterior momentarily. "I can get Arthur to order you, if that's what it takes," he warned. I did not doubt that. Arthur had been prepared to do this alone, without any of us, he would not hesitate in granting this last request to his best friend.

"Don't do this," I pleaded quietly. Lancelot drew his horse up right next to mine, so their flanks were pressed together, and then leaned over and kissed me, hard, passionately, and desperately. He broke away far too soon, tearing himself from me as if it was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do.

"I love you," he whispered fiercely. "Now, go!" He slapped Arion's rear, hard, sending him into a fast gallop down the hill, towards the woods. Perhaps what Lancelot had said had reached my horse as well, for I could not make him stop his flight, no matter how hard I tried. All I could do was hold on and ride.

Arion slowed down to a quick trot once we were in the woods, picking his own path through the undergrowth and fallen trees, not responding to my signals at all. I'm not sure how long or how far we had ridden before he suddenly stopped short.

"What's wrong, boy?" I asked out loud. A figure stepped out of the woods in front of me. My knives were drawn far before I saw who it was, and once I had seen, I made no move to put them away.

"Sent you away, did he?" Guinevere mused. The Woad girl was wearing almost nothing, scantily clad in a few leather strips concealing her breasts and tight fitting leather pants, but her body was covered in the tribal paintings of her people, giving her a feral, dangerous look. "Didn't want to risk you getting hurt?" she guessed correctly. I was in no mood for this. I wanted to inform her that one of the only things I was in the mood for was sticking this knife through her body, but what came out was

"What do you want?"

"The same thing you do," she stated. Oh, so she wanted me to stab her too?

"Doubtful," I replied, smirking a little. "Very doubtful."

"You want to fight alongside your comrades. I want to win this fight with the least amount of my people dying as possible. The easiest way to achieve that is to have you fighting with us."

"What exactly are you proposing?" It looked like it was almost painful for her to answer.

"A temporary truce between the two of us. Stand by me in this fight. Stand with my people, and help us fight for yours." I thought this over. There was nothing I wanted more than to be a part of the battle to come. But I had promised…

"Lancelot never has to know," Guinevere replied, reading the look that must have been apparent on my features. That, too, was doubtful, but it was the grain of rice that tipped the scale.

"All right." My voice came out barely more than a whisper.

"Good," Guinevere nodded, and then motioned to my armor. "You'll want to take that off," she advised. "You won't be leading a cavalry charge, you'll be running on foot, and the less weight you're carrying the better," she explained unnecessarily. I refrained from snapping that I knew how to fight, thank you very much, and opted instead to hop off Arion silently, beginning to strip off the heavy metal plates as quickly as I had thrown them on, what seemed like only minutes ago. Guinevere helped me with that tricky one in the back, and then looked at Arion pointedly.

"He'll stay here," I told her, knowing that he would stand out amount the Woads with or without me on his back. A dark shadow that was low to the ground moved out of the trees and the Woad girl's eyes widened as Blaez sat down at my side obediently. I grinned and patted his head. I had no idea how he always knew where I was or when I needed him, but I was glad that he did. Guinevere could not conceal her shock, and I had to remind myself that she had never seen him before, and the fact that his appearance seemed second nature to me did not make it so for everyone else. He growled slightly as she approached, after all, he was used to helping me fight and kill Woads. Or maybe he just didn't like her. Oh yes, I much preferred that idea. Either way, I applied a slight pressure to the back of his neck.

"Not this time, buddy," I told him. "He won't hurt you," I informed Guinevere.

"And what of my people?" She asked sharply. I looked at Blaez.

"Hear that, boy? Not the Woads this time. They get to be the good guys today. Go for the Saxons, just like you did with me and Merrick." God, it felt good to be able to say his name without it hurting. "Saxons, got it?" I reminded the wolf. He just dropped his jaw and let his tongue roll out of his mouth. Good enough for me.

"Will he listen to you?" Guinevere asked skeptically. I shrugged.

"That's up to him. He's not a tame pet, he does what he wants. Always has." She raised her eyebrows. "Calm down, he'll do as I say," I told her, although I wasn't actually certain of that. Just because he always had listened in the past didn't mean he always would.

Guinevere's head turned, listening intently, and I had to admit the girl had good ears. The Saxon war drums were just barely audible.

"Come," she ordered, and set off at a run into the trees. I tossed Arion's reins over a low branch, hoping he would stay put and out of trouble, and then took off after her. Satisfaction flashed through me as I caught up to her easily and had to slow my strides to match her speed. Blaez loped alongside us easily, making almost no sound as he moved lithely, little more than a shadow.

A few minutes later we re-emerged from the woods, this time coming out almost exactly parallel to the hill I had just been on with my friends. Woads parted instantly to let us through, giving me odd looks as I passed. I'll admit it, I was a little nervous. Wouldn't you be, if you were suddenly surrounded by hundreds of your oldest enemy, all of them whom knew who you were and were armed? Blaez didn't like it either, but I put a calming hand on his head as we came to a stop in the front line of the ranks, reassuring him with a confidence that I was most decidedly not feeling myself.

As the Saxons grew ever louder, a Woad came up to me hesitantly with a bow and arrow. I half expected him to shoot me and be done with it, but instead he offered them to me tentatively. I took them slowly, to make sure my movements could not be misinterpreted as an attack, but graciously none the less. Our hands touched briefly and the man jerked back, quick as a snake, a look of both fear and respect in his eyes. So I guess I wasn't the only one who was slightly uncomfortable with the situation. All our differences were put behind us, however, when the man commanding our section of the army motioned for us to light our arrows in the flaming braziers positioned near us, and gave the order.

"Fire!" We did.


	17. Battle 1

**Author's Note:** Hey guys! I am SO sorry that this took so awfully long to be written. I actually feel really bad, but the amount of inspiration I've been having is in the negatives. So, if this chapter seems forced, that's why. I'm still not inspired, I just feel guilty leaving you guys with that cliffhanger-ish ending. After all, you have to find out what happens! Hopefully the next chapter, which should be the last of the regular story, will be posted soon too. After all, it is summer, and despite my three jobs and softball team I seem to have a lot of free time… And then after that maybe you guys will get some alternate endings. But only if you're all good readers and review or email me at

WOW so I wrote that note in the middle of summer, and now I'm practically halfway through the first semester of college. I still apologize, being a sophomore is even harder than being a freshman, I have so much work to do it's ridiculous! So… this might be the last chapter. Sorry. If I get inspired or bored I'll write more endings and an epilogue and stuff, but for now I'm just going to finish it here and now. Thanks for being such great readers!

OH BOY now I'm almost done with my first semester of junior year, so as you can see I kind of forgot about this story completely… my bad. I wanted to leave those first two messages up there so you all know I really did intend on completing this story, but life got out of hand. But, in case any of you were wondering, I'm still alive, and here's the next chapter.  
-

Fighting, like most other things, is learned through controlled routines. You have clear instructions on what block or strike to use, and your opponent is always doing the same thing you are. It is clean, ordered and safe. You always think that you've mastered your craft until the training is stripped away and you are tossed into a true battle.

Nothing can prepare you for the absolute chaos that consumes the battlefield. Everything you learned and drilled slips right out of your head; and the only think keeping you alive is sheer survival instincts. All those fancy combos that took so long to master are essentially useless, because out here there is only one rule: kill your opponent faster than he kills you.

This charge was no different than any other I had experienced in the past fifteen years. The only variation was that this time I was running with the Woads, not at them. A familiar calm settled in all around me as we raced toward the Saxon lines. There was a ringing pressure building up in my ears like a tidal wave, drowning out all other sounds, until it felt like my head could hold no more. Then we hit the first of the Saxons and the world exploded. The noise was overbearing, coming from every direction, and the flashing colors was enough to make anyone dizzy. I knew the only way to get past this was to focus on one thing at a time, so that's what I did, picking up Saxons in my line of view, letting them fill my line of sight, and then darting in with my twin blades, hacking around shields and weapons to land a blow that would hopefully sever an artery or pierce their abdominal organs. Then, without waiting to make sure they were dead, I moved onto my next victim, dancing through the massive crowd as quick as lightning, never remaining in one place long enough for anyone to seek me out and press their own attack.

There was one problem with this technique. Even without the additional weight of my metal plate armor I was tiring extremely quickly. So at the first feelings of fatigue crept into my muscles I dropped back into rest of the Woad army, instead of remaining in the front like I had been. With a few hundred other people to break through the Saxon lines the pace slowed down a lot, giving me some time to catch my breath and take a few glances at what was going on around me.

The Woads were vicious fighters, even more so than they had seemed when we had skirmished with them in the past. They showed no mercy, no regret, and no pain as they pushed their way through the Saxon lines. The air was thick with smoke, so I couldn't see much past a 10 yard radius, which left me constantly questioning the fate of my fellow knights. They would be on the other side of the fires, with their own contingent of bloodthirsty natives, fighting to stay alive, not worrying about me. They thought I was halfway to Rome by now.

I snapped my mind back into the fight as a large Saxon rushed me from the side. He was easily dispatched with a slice to his renal artery. I left him on the ground to bleed out.

"Quinn!" I heard my name being shouted in from in front of me and immediately sprinted forward. Guinevere was on the ground wrestling with a man who was easily twice her size, and was pinned beneath him. She, however, had control of both his arms and his legs, leaving both of them at an impasse. All she needed was for someone to finish the job. I ran my blade across his throat like I was pulling a knife through butter, and then extended my hand to Guinevere, hastily helping her up as more Saxons came at us.

We fought side by side for a time. I'm not sure how long. It could have been seconds, it could have been hours. Everything was just a blur. What I do know is that as a team we were unstoppable. We stood back to back, covering all sides of the battlefield, dispatching anyone who was unfortunate enough to get too close. Eventually, though, the number of opponents lessened into a slow trickle instead of a steady stream. We took this as our cue to part ways, nodding to one another before heading off in separate directions to seek out more foes.

I drifted closer and closer to the dwindling wall of fire as I made my way through the crowds. I couldn't help it. There was a gnawing feeling in my gut that told me my friends were in danger, and I needed to see what was going on. Once I finally got close enough to look, I immediately wished I hadn't. There were bodies everywhere, spewed all over the damp ground. I suppose that's what our side looked like as well, but I found myself desperately trying to get a closer look at the victims, to see if any were recognizable. I couldn't see any of the knights or their horses standing upon the battlefield. Suddenly a shriek rang out from the sky, and my head whipped up. Sure enough, there was Nike, further in the middle of the field, hovering above something I couldn't see, but knew in my heart would be Tristan. She would never leave him. My body was suddenly filled with renewed energy as I began to sprint towards where she was hovering. As I got closer I could make out two figures on the horizon, facing off against each other. _Oh no_, I thought to myself as I realized who they were. _This is Arthur's fight, Tristan, don't do it_, I pleaded with him silently. As if he had read my thoughts and immediately disobeyed my, Tristan chose that moment to finally strike out at the Saxon leader. I tried to run faster, but my legs felt like they were moving through molasses. I couldn't get enough air in my lungs to shout his name, and even if I could have I was terrified that it would startle him and cost him his life. There was nothing I could do when the Saxon leader knocked his sword out of his hand, or cut him along the ribs. As I skidded to a stop near where they were fighting, Tristan was knocked down to the ground, his sword flying away again uselessly. He began crawling on his stomach towards it, desperately trying to regain possession of his weapon, to try to change his fate. The Saxon leader, however, could not allow this to happen. He walked over to where Tristan was squirming, like a cat stalking its prey. One booted foot went down onto the tracker's back, holding him firmly in place, expelling the air from his body. Tristan's eyes widened in shock and pain, and then strayed up from his sword to where I was standing, watching with tear filled eyes. His own eyes filled with warmth as they met mine, knowing that he would not die alone. He bent down and hauled Tristan up so that he was kneeling in the mud, gasping for breath. His eyes never left mine. Not when the Saxon drove his sword into his side, signing his death warrant, and not when he pulled out, turned and slashed through Tristan's chest diagonally. Only then did his head fall backwards, his body toppling to one side. In my mind I hoped he saw his beloved hawk soaring above him, ready to ferry his soul to the next life, but that was probably just a romantic notion from a girl who had already lost too many people who were close to her, and needed something to soften this horrendous blow.

The fighting around me disappeared for a moment or two as I fought through my grief over Tristan's death. We had been friends, brought close together by endless nights scouting ahead, sharing a special bond that none of our fellow knights had ever been able to quite understand. I wasn't even sure that I understood what had transpired between the two of us in the past fifteen years. I couldn't dwell on that thought, however, because I was quite literally pulled back into reality, as a Woad dragged me out of the path of a charging Saxon. I grasped his arm in thanks before darting off once again, trying to find more of my companions.

Sorry this wasn't longer I figured you would rather read something (anything, really) than nothing at all. Once again I apologize for how excruciatingly long this took, and I will really try to have the last chapter out very soon.


	18. Battle 2

**Author's Note:** Holy cow I finally wrote this! Wow. I am so sorry to have kept you waiting for such a long time, but I've been a busy girl! I graduated from college and am getting ready to go to vet school in Canada, so I've been going crazy filling out paperwork and stuff.

Ok, so this is the last "normal" chapter before we get into the alternate endings that I mentioned a while ago. I currently have 2 endings written and typed (crazy, right?) and I keep getting ideas for more, so there might be a lot popping up. If anyone has any ideas for an ending that they really want don't be afraid to let me know! Since you guys put up with me for so long I want everyone to be happy. Now to the chapter, which may be complete crap because I really just wanted to get to the endings…

**Story time:**

Everything was passing by in a blur. It was almost unreal. I couldn't even think, it was moving so fast. All I had time to do was to identify, friend or enemy, and then either move on or place a strike aimed to kill and move on.

I felt as though I had killed so many Saxons that there shouldn't have been any left. But they just kept coming, and coming, with no discernable diminishing of their numbers. I was beginning to think that this battle would last forever.

I was too caught up in the mass of Woads to find any of my companions. They were probably all still on the other side of the fire that divided the Saxon army in two. I tried to work my way over there, but I wasn't seeing any real progress.

Eventually I found myself fighting alongside Guinevere once again. I have to say, the Woad girl was growing on me now that se\he wasn't speaking or trying to seduce my husband. She was a vicious fighter, and we worked well together, covering any openings that popped up in each others defenses while ruthlessly cutting down anyone in our path. I inclined my head towards the fire and she nodded once, understanding that I wanted to get closer.

We made better progress working together, leapfrogging over each other's kills. She would take on man, clearing a path, and I would rush ahead as far as I could before tackling the next adversary while she caught up and rushed past me so we could repeat the process.

Things were going well until I got tangled with a particularly nasty Saxon that took me longer to kill than most. By the time I had finished I had lost sight of Guinevere, she had gone too far ahead. I darted forward, and saw her approach a man that had a familiar profile. The realization stopped me in my tracks for a split second. That was the man who had led the army that had killed Dagonet. A cold fury poured into my veins, and I sprinted towards them.

~Lancelot's Point of View~

Things on our side of the flames were going well. Or, as well as they could be. The Saxons were finally beginning to thin, but their leader still remained. There was a constant itch, for me to go over and kill him, or to put an arrow through his throat, but I knew that I couldn't. That was Arthur's task. He had to be the one to kill him. It was personal.

My eyes took in the scene around me with professional accuracy. Most of my fellow knights were alive, although bruised and battered. None of us were on horses anymore. They had had the good sense to run off and find somewhere safe to wait out the battle.

A flash of red crossed my vision, reminding me of Quinn. It was exactly the color of her hair. Safe. She was safe. She may hate me now, but at least she wasn't a part of this.

I saw the red glint out of the corner of my eye again, causing me to spin around, looking for its source. Through the flames I though I saw Quinn running to someone, but I just shook my head. Quinn wasn't here. She was gone. It was just my nerves.

I couldn't help but look over in that direction again, and when I did I spotted Guinevere, getting pushed out of the way by another girl, with gleaming red hair and-

Shit.

Quinn.

I ran for the flames as fast as I could.

~Quinn's Point of View~

I flew into Guinevere, shoving the girl out of my way. When I straightened I was facing the man with the beard. He had a cut under one eye now, which looked deliberate. Perhaps it was a punishment for letting us escape on the ice. Thanks to Dagonet.

He cocked one side of his mouth up in a crazed grin as he looked me over, chuckling softly. The hair on the back of my neck bristled. Big mistake.

I rushed at him before he could even blink, knives out and flashing. His eyes widened in shock after seeing how quickly I could move, but he brought his sword up just in time to deflect my blades. Mostly. The second strike opened a shallow cut in his arm of histhick clothing, but probably didn't break the skin.

I was back at him again before he could fully recover, causing him to go on the defensive, giving up ground and taking us closer to the line of flames that still burned on the ground. If I could get his back against that, then it would be over.

He glanced quickly behind him and must have guessed my plan, because he stopped his retreat hastily, starting to push me back a little. The man's form and fighting style wasn't anything special, but, boy, wasn't he _strong_. I felt like I was fighting a raging bull. Every swing of his sword that I had to block sent shocks through my arms, which were quickly beginning to tire. I knew that I would have to end this battle soon if I was going to survive.

In a desperate attempt at surprise I rushed in towards my opponent, hoping to close the gap enough that his long sword would be useless. It would have worked perfectly. Except that he rushed me at the same time, so instead of getting closer I crashed right into him.

His hand closed around my arm and I thrashed wildly, knowing that I had to get away from him. Hand-to-hand combat had never been my strong suit in the best of situations, and this was far worse. I turned and tried to claw at his face, aiming for his eyes, hoping to distract him, but he caught that arm as well, holding me so that I was facing him. Then he brought his head crashing down on my own.

A splitting pain shot through my forehead, and I couldn't see anything. I instinctively reached up to grab my face as I stumbled back, stunned and disoriented. Unfortunately this left the rest of my body completely open to attack. He raised one leg and kicked me hard in the chest.

I fell to the ground hard as the air left my body in a rush. I felt at least three ribs crack, and suddenly it was extremely hard to breathe. I blinked away tears rapidly, still trying to recover from the blow to the head, and as my vision returned I could see the man standing above me, raising his sword for the blow that would finished me off.

There was nothing I could do.

"I love you, Lancelot," I whispered, closing my eyes and waiting for the impact.

Metal clanged down onto metal. My eyes flew open. There were two new swords crossed barely a foot in front of my face, catching the descending blade and thrusting it away from me. My eyes continued up to see the wielder of the swords.

Lancelot.

My husband's eyes were full of a cold fury as he pushed my attacker away with his foot, placing his body between harm and me. I did my part and rolled out of the way so he wouldn't trip on me. He continued to press closer to the man, swinging his twin swords in beautifully brutal strokes. The man lashed out with his shield, clipping Lancelot on the side of the head, but he rolled away from it and shrugged it off, continuing on as if nothing had happened.

Suddenly Lancelot disarmed the man with a clever twist of his wrist, and then sent him to the ground with a quick slash across the back of his legs. The Saxon struggled to his feet, both hands in front of him in a defensive posture as Lancelot twirled his swords in his hands. Then he grabbed an axe that had been lying on the ground and rushed at Lancelot again. He was able to defend himself, but in doing so he fell to his back on the ground.

I breathed in a painful gasp, fearing the worst, but Lancelot crossed his swords and defended the blow that was aimed at his head, and then kicked the weapon out of the other man's hand before delivering a kick to the gut that sent the man tumbling a few yards away.

Lancelot turned back to me, panic in his eyes.

"Quinn," he called, his voice thick with anxiety.

I raised myself off the ground as much as my injured ribs would let me.

"I'm fine," I called back, although I could hear the pain in my voice.

Lancelot came to stand near me, hovering over me like a guardian angel. His eyes hardened at something behind me, and I turned to see another Saxon rushing at us, presumably to finish off the easy prey that was lying on the ground. Lancelot intercepted him and dispatched him quickly with a cut to the gut before tossing one sword into the air to catch it blade down and stabbing the man in the back, severing his spinal cord.

I turned back around, a small smile playing out on my lips. Lancelot would protect me. Everything was going to be fine. Then I saw something that stopped my blood cold.

"Lancelot!" I screamed, as the Saxon we had been fighting picked up a loaded crossbow from the ground, but I knew that it wouldn't be enough.

It was the strangest sensation, making the decision to give up my life. The world was moving so quickly, and yet I could see everything in perfect clarity.

Dagonet's killer, leveling the crossbow as my husband's exposed back.

Lancelot turning to face him slowly, gods, so slowly.

I knew what was necessary immediately, and laughed internally at the irony. I had always wondered how Merrick had found the strength to push himself from the ground and throw his body into mine, sealing his fate, but now that it was my turn I felt as if I had been preparing for this moment my entire life.

I leapt in front of Lancelot just in time to catch the arrow high on my chest.

My body exploded with pain, and red spots danced in front of my eyes. I tried to take a breath, but nothing happened.

Lancelot caught me as I fell to the ground, and although I could see his mouth moving, I heard nothing except a strange, loud, ringing in my ears.

Then I could see nothing at all as the world went black.


	19. Ending 1

The next thing I saw was a blinding white light.

"Am I dead?" I whispered hoarsely.

"What do you think?" A familiar voice asked sarcastically.

"Yes," I whispered.

"Well, you're not," the voice replied, thick with emotion. "But you certainly gave it your best shot."

My eyes opened wider, adjusting to the light, and landed on the disheveled form of my husband sitting next to the bed that I was laying on.

"Lancelot," I breathed. He reached out and stroked my hair gently.

"You scared me," he said accusingly. "I thought I was going to lose you."

"How long was I asleep?" I asked, wincing as I felt the pain beginning to creep back into my right shoulder.

"Almost a week."

No wonder he looked so exhausted.

"What happened?" I was almost afraid of the answer.

"We won," he said simply, and then, seeing that I wanted more an explanation, continued. "Tristan is dead, but you knew that already."

I sighed sadly. I was hoping that part hadn't been real.

"Everyone else was beat up pretty badly, but they will live. You were the worst off. The Saxons are gone. Arthur killed their leader. We're rebuilding the town, with the help of the Woads. Arthur and Guinevere are getting married to join our people; they've decided to make him the king of Britain." He smirked. "King Arthur, can you believe that?"

I began to laugh, but that quickly turned into a gasp as pain lanced through my chest. Lancelot took my hand and squeezed it tightly.

"Shh," he hushed me. "Take it easy, Quinn. You had a close call, and it's going to take a while to regain your strength."

I nodded lightly, slowing my breathing and taking deeper breaths.

"So, how bad am I?" I tried to say it flippantly, but Lancelot heard the fear in my voice. He grimaced, and I steeled myself for his answer.

"The bolt hit you high in the chest, only a couple of inches above your heart. You probably won't regain full strength and flexibility in your right arm. And we can't know for sure how much it will affect your breathing."

"Will I still be able to fight?"

Lancelot shrugged.

"Not anytime soon, but I don't think that we'll have anyone to fight for a while, either."

My face fell in disappointment.

"Quinn, you are the strongest person I know," Lancelot reassured me. "You'll fight through this, and you will get back to normal. We won't give up on you."

"And what about you?" I asked softly. "Will you still want me even if I have to be a meek housewife for the rest of my life.

He snorted in surprise. "Darling, I don't think you even know what meek is."

"I'm serious," I told him.

"So am I. That won't happen," he promised me. "But I would love you no matter what you did.

Suddenly, his eyes clouded with doubt.

"Quinn, we're alive."

I smiled. "I think we already established that. But who would have guessed that I would happen?"

"Exactly. We're alive," he repeated. "And we're married."

I thought that over for a minute, recalling our non-existant engagement and the rushed ceremony.

"Yes, I suppose we are," I mused.

"Are you happy with that?" Lancelot asked.

"Lancelot-"

"I mean, when you agreed we both thought that we'd be dead within twenty-four hours-"

"Lancelot-"

"I would understand if you had second thoughts, now that our life expectancies have increased by a fair bit-"

"Lancelot-" I said loudly, and then winced at the pain in my chest. "Stop talking for a minute and listen to me," I finished forcefully.

His mouth dropped in shock, and then snapped shut.

"I love you. I need you. And you made the vows. So, like it or not, you're stuck with me. Forever. And if you ever try to leave me, I will hunt you down and hurt you."

A slow grin spread across his face.

"You love me."

"I love you," I repeated, smiling myself.

"And you need me," he whispered, gently crawling into the bed and laying next to me.

"I need you," I murmured, laying me head on his firm chest.

"And I'm stuck with you forever."

"Until the ends of the Earth," I confirmed happily.

"Well, I guess I could get used to that."

I smiled, content and at ease, knowing, for the first time in fifteen years, that I had a future.

"Yeah. Me too."

I figured this is the ending a lot of people would like, so I put it first :)


	20. Ending 2

Well, this is my favorite ending so far, sorry if it gets kind of long and repetitive, I had a lot of free time at work one day and I just couldn't seem to stop myself.

"Am I dead?" I whispered.

"What do you think?" A familiar voice asked dryly.

"Yes," I said.

"Generally that is what happens when you throw yourself in front of a crossbow bolt at close range."

I opened my eyes completely and sat up, wholly free of pain. Every bump and bruise that I had accrued over the years: gone. It was borderline miraculous. The real miracle, however, came when I looked to my right.

Dagonet was leaning casually against the wall, smiling sadly.

"I didn't want to see you here so soon," he sighed, walking over and kneeling beside me. I flung my arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. Gods, had it only been days since he had died? It felt like a lifetime. I pushed away from him and looked up at his strong face.

"Where exactly are we?" I asked. Dagonet shrugged.

"We're… after. Heaven, hell, call it what you like. This is after."

I looked around, taking my settings in.

"It looks like our town at the wall," I said, confused.

"It changes sometimes," he said flippantly. "Usually when someone new pops up. But it usually looks something like Britain. Go figure. The place was our own hell in life, and now in death…" he trailed off.

"It was all we knew," I reasoned. "It was home. I think it was more like heaven than we could ever have known then.

Dagonet took my hands and pulled me to my feet. A thought crossed my mind and I frowned.

"Dagonet, is Lancelot-"

"He's fine. You saved him, Quinn," he reassured me. I breathed out a huge sigh of relief.

"Oh, thank god. I just needed to save one person. Just one, after everyone that I've hurt," I paused. "What about everyone else? The battle?"

"They won. Killed the better part of the Saxon army and sent the survivors running for the hills. Arthur will marry Guinevere, uniting the people. Bors took a spear to the gut, but he pulled through." My face fell.

"Tristan is dead." That one wasn't a question. Then I perked up. "Is he here?"

"You know Tristan," Dagonet chuckled. "He's around here somewhere, doing things his own way on his own time. I'm sure you'll see him soon."

I smiled, happy to be reunited with everyone. Everyone…

"Dag." He was smiling now, too.

"Took you long enough to ask about me," a voice called from behind me.

My heart stopped beating, and if I had still been alive I might have dropped dead. I turned slowly, not allowing myself to hope that this could be true, giving myself a few moments more to enjoy the fantasy.

"I was starting to think you forgot about me," Merrick joked, a grin spreading across his handsome features, making his sea green eyes sparkle playfully.

I'm not sure how long I stood there, paralyzed, not moving, not breathing. It could have been seconds, minutes, hours. Time meant nothing as I stared at him in hopeful disbelief. Then his grin widened and he held out his arms.

I exploded in a flurry of motion, not able to reach him fast enough, to touch him, to feel his realness. I was up and running, the room dissolving around me. And then I was in his arms, collapsing into him. He held me close as I sobbed, pulling me in tight and stroking my hair.

"Shh," he murmured into my ear, rocking me gently. "I'm here, Quinn. I'm not going to leave you again."

I pressed my face into his muscular chest, breathing in the scent of him. He was here. He was real. Pieces of me that I hadn't realized were still broken clicked together instantly.

"I missed you so much," I cried, clinging to him tightly.

"I know," he soothed, rubbing my back as if I were a baby. "I've missed you too. Although, I would have given anything to keep you from this a little longer."

"You did everything," I said firmly, squeezing him tighter. "Do you understand? You did everything for me. You were everything for me."

A face flashed through my vision, and my body tensed. I pulled away from Merrick slowly, guilt pressing down on me as I looked into his eyes.

He smiled down at me with a sort of sadness on his face.

"I know," he said. "Lancelot."

My eyes filled with tears again, but this time they were tears of sadness, not joy.

"I love him," I whispered. "And I'm so sorry."

"No," he said simply.

"It's not something I can help," I told him. "And even if I could change it, I'm not sure I would," I realized.

"No, not that," Merrick said hurriedly. "I know that you love him. And I understand. What I meant was, no, don't be sorry. Do not apologize for what you feel, Quinn. The two of you have something so special, so rare, don't you ever apologize for it."

His words only made things worse.

"But I love you, too," I sobbed. I couldn't remember ever feeling this torn in two completely different directions.

Merrick pulled me back into his body, pressing my head to the spot right above his heart. My ears were flooded with the sound of its steady beats, soothing my tears and calming my own heart's erratic rhythm.

"I know you do," he murmured. "And I love you, so much. But this is right."

"How-"

"I was made for you, Quinn. Ever since I saw you, you've been the entire reason for my existence. All I can do is try to make you happy. I thought that meant being the man that you loved, but I was wrong. Maybe, for a time, that was true, but that time is gone."

"I don't want it to be," I said. His smile was tragic.

"Yes, you do," he said. "It was never meant to happen with us."

"It was," I wailed. "You were the love of my life, and when you died, it almost killed me." He shook his head, with the same sad smile on his face.

"I wasn't the love of your life," he told me.

"You were," I argued.

"No, I wasn't, he said, more forcefully, the smile disappearing from his face. "I used to spend my time hoping that it was true, that one day you would realize what I felt for you. That you would wake up with the same need to be around me that burned inside me. But you didn't. You never did."

I shook my head over and over, trying to block out his words.

"No," I repeated. "I did love you, I did need you-"

"But not like I needed you," he said, his voice soft and gentle again. "Not like I loved you."

"But-"

"I was never angry about it," he assured me. "I never blamed you for what you didn't feel."

"I did feel-"

"Then why weren't we together?" He demanded. "If you loved me as much as I loved you, why did we never end up together?" That stopped me. "Trust me," he said. "A lot would have happened that most definitely did not."

"When you were gone," I began, but Merrick shook his head.

"It wasn't real," he told me. My eyes narrowed into dangerous slits.

"Don't tell me that what I felt was not real. Don't you _dare_ say that. Losing you almost killed me. I was dead inside for along time. I felt like I was going to explode into a million little pieces because of all of the feelings I had. It hurt, Merrick. It hurt so much I wanted to die with you. So you can't tell me that it wasn't real, because it was."

"That's not what I meant," he consoled me, seeing the tears begin to leak from my eyes again. "I know that you were hurt and broken, I saw how much you were suffering. But it wasn't because you loved me. It was because you didn't."

"You are insane," I told him flatly.

"Just think about it, Quinn," he pressed. "You never wondered why all of those feeling popped up right after I died? Right after I had been killed protecting you?"

I flinched at his words as if I had been slapped.

"I never wanted you to do that," I whispered.

"I know," he said. "But I wanted to do it. For you. To save you. And I did, save you. And I tried to hold on, for you. But then I died. And you suddenly had massive amounts of emotions. But it wasn't love. It was guilt." He shrugged. "You never felt that way about me, Quinn. You just thought you did, because if you had, then my death wouldn't have been… god there is no good way of saying this that doesn't make me sound like a complete ass."

"Just spit it out," I yelled, frustrated.

"Fine. If you had loved me like I had loved you, then my death wouldn't have been a complete waste. It wouldn't have been in vain. There. Are you happy?" He raged.

Everything that had pieced together inside me when I saw him broke apart again with those words. Tears streamed freely down my face as I spun on my heel and ran, as fast as I could.

"Shit," Merrick swore before I heard his footsteps begin to follow me. "Quinn, wait."

I didn't want to wait. Every nightmare, every doubt that I had ever had about Merrick's death was suddenly coming true. He had died for me, and he regretted it. He regretted throwing his life away for a girl who didn't love him back. Because I had known. Deep down, I had always known that I didn't- couldn't- love him the way he loved me. How could I? Every fiber in his body was devoted to me, and I couldn't match that. So he had died for nothing. I had always known it, and he did too. So I ran.

I didn't her his footsteps getting louder, so when he caught me and tugged on my arm I fell backwards, off balance, crashing into him and sending us both tumbling to the ground in a tangle of limbs.

I struggled to get away from him, to keep running, but he grabbed me, pinning my arms to my sides and holding me tightly against his body. I squirmed and screamed, trying to break free, but he held me fast

"Let me go!" I shrieked, trying to figure out a way to escape that didn't involve physically hurting him. I had done more than enough of that already.

"No, Quinn, stop it. Listen to me, please. I didn't mean that. I told you, it was going to sound awful, but I didn't mean it," he pleaded with me. "Just stop running from me. Please."

I felt myself go limp in his arms. I always had done what he'd asked of me. Merrick turned me around so that I was facing him, wiping the tears off of my face with his thumb.

"I didn't mean what I said," he repeated. "I don't regret what I did, I never have, not for a second. It wasn't a waste. I was just trying to make you see, to make you understand. You felt guilty. And, considering the circumstances, that is understandable, even reasonable. But I don't want you to. Not ever. I sweat, I didn't mean it."

"But you should," I cried. "You should hate me. You should never want to see me again."

He laughed softly.

"Quinn, if I didn't want to see you, do you think I'd be here? Waiting for you?"

"This is not funny, Merrick," I growled at him.

"It kind of is," he said lightly. "Honestly, we're both dead, and we're playing the blame game over whose fault it is that I died? What does it matter? We're dead. And you can keep on thinking that I should be mad at you, but I'm not, and I won't be. It might take you a while to figure that out, but hey, we've got nothing but time. And whenever you do, I'll still be right here, waiting for you."

"But Lancelot-"

"Will hopefully live a long, happy life, but when he dies, he will come here, too."

"What will happen then?" I asked.

"Then the two of you will be together again, like it is supposed to be," he said simply.

I raised my eyebrows.

"I told you, Quinn. I was made for you. And I love you. But I don't want to come between you and Lancelot. I love you like a sister. You are still my best friend. And that is enough for me. It always will be."

I could feel the truth seeping out of his words, and the fear began to trickle out of my body.

"You can do that?" I whispered; hope finding its way into my voice.

"I can do anything for you," he said, grinning boyishly. A smile spread across my face as well.

"We would have been great, you know," I said wistfully.

Now it was Merrick's turn to cock an eyebrow.

"You think?" He asked. We both mulled the idea over in our heads for a moment or two before bursting out laughing simultaneously.

"No," I finally gasped.

"We would have been ready to kill each other after a few days," Merrick agreed. I glared coolly at him.

"Too soon?" He asked sheepishly.

"Too soon," I agreed. Dagonet strolled over to us casually.

"You two kiss and makeup yet?" He asked sarcastically. Merrick threw up a hand in an exaggerated gesture.

"Alas," he cried dramatically, "I have not yet achieved the first."

I shoved him playfully, sending him rolling onto his back.

"I can't kiss my _brother_ you dolt," I shot back.

Merrick grabbed me and dragged me down so that he was positioned on top of me before kissing me quickly and lightly on the lips.

"There," he joked, "Now we've done both." I just shook my head and rolled my eyes as he hopped up and then reached down and pulled me to my feet.

I looked between my two friends, content in knowing that I would have both of them for the rest of forever.

"So," I said. "What do we do now?"


End file.
